Starcraft - Masterminds & Comets
by Meridus Lanvellar
Summary: The story picks up where Legacy of the Void left us, 3 months after to be precise, ignoring the Nova DLC entirely. It follows the adventures of a Purifier phase-smith, who keeps attracting the wrong company and getting into trouble. Prepare for shenanigans, insanity, comedy, and the occasional seriousness. I hope it will have a "slice of life" vibe but you tell me, right?
1. Chapter 1

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.05

 **Location:** Aiur, Citadel of the Executors, Council Chambers  
 **Time:** Early afternoon

Artanis liked being in the Citadel. It was both nostalgic and rejuvenating. When the Twilight Council was looking for a proper building to house itself in, there were at first arguments (somewhat commonplace now that the war was over). Not specifically about the location but its potential symbolic meaning. It was actually Karax who solved the problem by saying ' _You are executors, so why not move into the Citadel of the Executor? Back then we only had one, but now that we have four it only seems reasonable that they should be where their former colleagues were._ ' Clean, logical, efficient. ' _Hah! Just add a plural and be done with it!_ ', he remembered Vorazun laughing.

Of course, the Citadel needed to be rebuilt but that was a good problem. It became a symbol of unity for the many cultures that lived under the Daelaam, and as such, the construction brought together all the tiny sparks of hope that someday the horrors of the past would be behind them, that they could explore their new future as one people, no matter how diverse.

They chose the small chamber for this hearing, since this was not a public issue – yet. Although the imagery was purely holographic, the room appeared to be a giant disc of thin gold, floating above the tallest spire of the Citadel. Its artistic engravings marked the position of the hierarch, the executors, and the guests. Artanis stood at the north, defining the position of the rest, both symbolically and practically. To his left, at the 2 and 4 o'clock position were Selendis and Talandar, representing the sunlight rising from the east. To his right, at the 10 and 8 o'clock position were Vorazun and Yalara, Executor of the Tal'darim in the Daelaam, representing the darkness into which the sun descends in the west.

In essence, this was the practical expansion of the Twilight Council, as well as the visual indicator of the division between their peoples. Back then it was only Selendis and Vorazun arguing, one bull-headed, the other provocative. Now this was expanded with Talandar's bull-headedness and Yalara's provocativeness. To make it worse, both were different, so Artanis was stuck with 4 vastly different worlds colliding, and he was supposed to forge them into one people.

Today, however, he was supposed to judge someone for being even worse than them.

"Who are you, and why do you believe to have been brought before us?" Artanis asked, both to provide a somewhat formal context and give himself time to digest.

"I am Nabiros, phase-smith of those known as the Purifiers.", the machine-Protoss said with shocking contempt. "I am here to be tried for heresy of the highest order. Then executed, in all likelihood."

"There is nothing to blaspheme against in the Daelaam, thus you cannot be a heretic. We cannot execute you for a crime you could not have committed.", Artanis said to Nabiros, though it was also addressed to his four Executors. "Still, I would know what you meant by 'heresy of the highest order'."

Nabiros stood for a moment, as if to appraise him and his council. "I do not believe that I, or any one of the Purifiers, are Protoss.", he said with the tone of one who is explaining something he knows will not be understood by his audience.

"Sacrilege!", Talandar shouted in disbelief, despite having already heard it once before this council session.

Artanis noted that Vorazun and Yalara did not respond, though they do seem to be very interested in the matter. "Explain.", he said, even though every fibre of his being screamed at the sheer impossibility of what the phase-smith said.

Nabiros waited a moment to see if any objections were raised. When none came, he continued with a hint of uncertainty, as to what could possibly be going on in his audience's heads. "It is simple, and my proof stands among you." he said, gesturing at Talandar. "Talandar believes with certainty that he is not Fenix, even though he was created with everything that we consider to be the core building blocks of an individual: memories, experiences, character. According to the records I have read, the Fenix interred into a Dragoon had no such symptoms: he died the second time as the same hero that he always was. As I am sure you have experienced, the technology involved in making a Dragoon and a Purifier are vastly different. A Dragoon is essentially a combat prosthetic that contains an already living person within, while a Purifier has no organic components. So how is it possible that the water poured in one cup changes colour, while the other does not?"

Artanis' inner turmoil calmed into a quiet horror, as he began to saw the reason in the phase-smith's words and awaited his conclusion. Talandar looked like an innocent whose lethal verdict was being read to, devastated and confused. Selendis' eyes darted between Talandar, Nabiros, and himself, bewildered and unsure if she wanted to comfort her comrade, listen to this mad preacher, or to ask Artanis to silence him. Vorazun and Yalara, on the other hand, were hanging on his every word, curious and with dawning realisations behind their eyes. _It is as if I am seeing my own soul: half terrified, half interested._ Artanis thought. _And I am to decide on this._

Leaning in a little for the verbal killing blow, Nabiros continued. "It is said that one's soul enters its body when it is capable of housing it – and so it only seems logical that upon the activation of a finished Purifier body, it becomes the home of a soul." Nabiros waited a moment for the statement to sink in. "The memories implanted into that soul are all they know at first, but like all implants, they will be recognised as alien, not coming from the origin. So it is only logical that a Purifier still in its infancy would adopt the imprinted identity; therefore, as the Purifier grows as a person, they will shed this imprinted identity, much like how we would take off the clothes that are revealed to be another's and put on our own instead."

Talandar stood only because he had four legs, while the others summoned a chair for themselves with a barely conscious gesture, so they could ponder this enormous revelation without spending precious brain capacity on something as irrelevant as standing. Seeing that the council believes to have suffered the killing blow, Nabiros found himself finishing his argument with the cold, calculated cruelty of a surgeon who must remove a limb to save a patient they couldn't care less about.

"Based on that, while the Purifiers were indeed made by Protoss, based on Protoss, they are not, themselves, Protoss."

The silence that settled on those present at first appealed to Nabiros. He looked triumphant, like he proved the others wrong. As he began to sense the quiet, almost enervated disturbance whirling within everyone else, he grew unsure first, then fearful. He seemed to have checked and re-checked his reasoning, to see if it was clear – and when he found nothing wrong, only then did it seem to dawn on him that is it not the information's veracity that was on the table anymore, but the meaning of it, and its myriad potential consequences. Artanis was glad that Nabiros recognised that finally.

 _Imagine yourself in the following situation,_ Artanis would have liked to say to someone right now. _You are responsible for a fledgling domain of 4 different peoples, one of whom is inorganic, mechanical. They have the knowledge and experience of some of your best warriors and scientists, as well as a giant warship that contains all the technological marvels your species ever created, even if only in its vast archives. They respect you, and have acknowledged your lead. However, suddenly they are revealed to be a different species altogether, with a severe identity crisis on every level: personal, organisational, and cultural. How do you help them? Or worse, how do you ensure your own people's safety from them, should they decide to disappear, only to return with vast, mass-produced legions in a few decades to cleanse the sector, because that is all they know, purification? I don't even have someone to complain to, I have to do it in an internal monologue._

Artanis shifted in his seat, put his left arm on the armrest and leant his head upon his hand in contemplation, with the calm relaxation of a man trying to deal with the incomprehensible without fighting its incomprehensibility. "What you say sounds reasonable. Finding out how little we understand of the world is no longer a new and alien experience to us. However, what do you believe should be done about this? You just declared the Purifiers an entirely different species, but how are we supposed to treat the heroes of our history like they are not one of us?"

The shift in the conversation was obvious but the responses varied. Vorazun seemed interested in the answer to what she saw as an entirely reasonable question. Yalara was amused by the finesse with which he flipped the issue back to Nabiros, while apparently considering the entire topic academic, albeit a very interesting one. Selendis seemed glad that now the accuser feels buried under a mountain of pressure, and was fairly certain he wouldn't get out of it easily, or at all. Talandar, however, looked very invested in the quality of Nabiros' response, since he himself very much wanted to know how to deal with all this, and even the smallest hint would have been appreciated.

Nabiros felt pinned for a few seconds, but his circuits burped out the only reasonable response they could nonetheless. "Be a responsible parent and let your children find their identity on their own."

Artanis felt amused, and for the first time in hours, reassured. "I already do. However…" he stood up as he spoke. "… it is obvious to me that you wish to explore your identity in a less… traditional setting. So to support you in that search, I am giving you a ship, and my word that you can come and go as you please within our borders. And when you have found the answers you seek, I promise to listen to them as soon as I am able."

Relief poured from everyone around him. Vorazun and Yalara saw the case settled but not the matter in its entirety. Selendis was glad that they would be rid of Nabiros in a clean way that benefited all parties involved. Talandar seemed relieved that on one hand the big questions became distant enough to bare, and on the other hand that they will be answered in time by the same person who brought them up, which will surely be interesting to say the least.

"I did not believe you to be so wise, Hierarch." Nabiros bowed with respect. "I gained more than I had hoped and lost nothing in return, thank you."

"I told you, Nabiros, that there is no blasphemy to commit in the Daelaam." Artanis replied with a little nod. "In fact, seeking answers for the hardest questions is among the most honourable pursuits. Go with our hopes for your success and safety."

If Artanis had known the consequences of this decision, he might have assigned someone to keep Nabiros in check. Or maybe ten someones, to be sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.06

 **Location:** Aiur, Orbital Defense Platform, Docking Bay 5  
 **Time:** Sunrise

"If you're going to stand there motionless any longer you'll be mistaken for misplaced cargo by a bored probe and put between two senile Dragoons for the rest of your life."

The momentary sensation of threat to his mental well-being roused Nabiros from his thoughts, which were running circles in his mind. He only got as far as summarising his situation when he felt... panic, for lack of a better word, at the sheer reality of him embarking on a journey of self-discovery into the tormented wilderness of the Koprulu Sector, all by himself. Well, not exactly: his only friend, a Tal'darim scholar by the name of Tekka, joined him for her own reasons - _which, now that I think of it, she did not mention yet._

"Why are you coming with me, Tekka?" Nabiros asked, walking towards their assigned ship. For a brief moment, Nabiros marveled at the grace of it: it was a new type of ship, called the Explorer, designed for long-range scouting operations that could not be done by the trusty Observer. It resembled the old troop transport, the Shuttle, but it was a significantly scaled down version, and with a more fluid hull, not unlike a Corsair. Indeed, the Nerazim's touch was noticable: where the Templar are bulky and sturdy, the Nerazim are thin and nimble. And yet, in a show of defiance, the ship was equipped with a pair of Photon Blasters, instantly making him feel at home.

"Because you have the charm of a malfunctioning warp engine and the social skills of an Ultralisk." Tekka quipped. "And as a sworn protector of ancient lore I have to ensure you that don't end up as scrap in a Terran junkyard."

"The likelihood of Tal'darim comprehending the concept of charity is remarkably less than their pursuit of self-interest and general exploitation of everything and everyone they can find." Nabiros retorted.

"It's your fault if you trust a Protoss wielding red lightning and bathing in Terrazine." Tekka shrugged.

"You're still dodging my question." Nabiros pointed out as they boarded the ship using the ramp on its right. Looking around inside, he saw that they are in the cargo bay: too small for bulk transport but spacious enough for samples and any additional equipment they could possibly need. He already had plans for a number of modifications but he wanted to have a closer look at their ship first.

"I had thought that the opportunity for unrestrained tinkering would be a higher priority for you than to invade my privacy like this." Nabiros was not fooled by Tekka's verbal tricks; instead, he turned around and stared her down.

It was a curious sight for those Protoss in Docking Bay 5 who cared to notice. Standing on the top end of the ramp, a bulky white-gold Purifier phase-smith (because who else would have two mechanical arms attached to their back, along with a pair of dextrous metallic tentacles with grabbing claws), who, even with a helmet for a face and a visor for eyes, managed to look palpably disapproving. Just a few steps away down the ramp, stood a thin, harmless-looking, middle-aged Protoss woman, clad in simple grey robes that covered her torso and her upper arms and legs. She wore silver metallic gauntlets that covered her arms from elbow to fingertips, with large bloodshard crystals at the forearm. Despite the less than impressive attire, she had an air of cockyness about her, something that has become known as a common trait among the Tal'darim.

Finally, Tekka gave in to the unreleting mechanical scrutiny of Nabiros. "Fine, fine, fine! I..." for a moment she seemed unsure how to phrase what she wanted to say, but then the trademark Tal'darim determination and focus tore through all doubt and insecurity like an angry Archon through Zerglings. "I want to find out who I am as well. Who we are without Amon. If there is anywhere to ascend to."

Nabiros stood for a few moments in silent consideration, then spoke. "It seems our people have much more in common than either of us would be comfortable to admit. Welcome aboard. Officially, now."

The Explorer had quite a few surprises for Nabiros. Firstly, it had an impressive power core that could be refuelled by gathering raw Vespene gas using a specialised Probe, and the automated mini-refinery took care of the rest. Secondly, the engineering section also had a mini-forge that could turn raw minerals into anything that could fit into its admittedly limited crafting space. Lastly, the ship had a cloaking device, which, as Nabiros expected, put the ship's power core under considerable strain when activated. He found it odd, considering how the newer Corsairs, fighters smaller than the Explorer, could remain cloaked almost indefinitely, but reasoned that it had something to do with the ship's rather powerful warp engines, giving it great speed and the ability to make relatively short warp jumps. _Something to tinker on while we're on the road._

"I must say, this ship is impressive." Tekka said when they met up in navigation, where the pilot's seat and the navigator's station were. "We also have 8 rooms, that should be enough for the two of us."

"Yes, we could use them for extra storage space." Nabiros nodded as he sat into the pilot's seat. "How thoughtful, the controls are Purifier-compatible. That should make flying this ship much easier."

"That's good to hear." Tekka nodded as she sat down before the navigator's station.

An awkward silence descended upon them, slowly filling up with unspoken tension. The seconds slowed to a crawl that would make a Reaver look fast. They both nervously familiarised themselves with their respective consoles, checked and re-checked everything. For a good ten minutes neither of them spoke.

Then Nabiros lifted the bell of sheer discomfort that enveloped them. "So uuhh... I've never done this before."

"Fly a ship?" Tekka attempted a joke.

"No, I've done that plenty of times." Nabiros shook his head. "I... I may have realised its necessity but I don't know how you go on a journey of self-discovery. I checked last night and there wasn't a single guide for them, not so much as a paragraph."

"Those aren't the kind of things that can be explained, only experienced." Tekka remarked with some amusement.

"Alright, let's approach this problem like a design challenge." Nabiros scratched his head, which was odd for a machine. "Break down the abstract overall goal into tangible, smaller goals. I've learnt of a Nerazim shrine on Lentoth III, which was one of the supposed stops of the Nerazim after their banishment from Aiur. There should be something, or someone interesting there, maybe some historical records, personal logs, or maybe even a few reclusive scholars and hermits."

"Sounds like a good start." Tekka nodded, instantly excited by the possibility of acquiring knowledge. "Let's go then."

"Let's hope it's not infested with feral Zerg..." Nabiros muttered as he lifted the ship from dock, guided it out of the docking bay, and into the stars.


	3. Chapter 3

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.08

 **Location:** Lentoth III, Nerazim Shrine outskirts  
 **Time:** Noon

The visit to Lentoth III looked bad right from the start.

Lentoth III was a rather small planet. Or a giant red rock that was far too close to the sun for life to happen on it, depending on how you look at it. Still, it was solid compared to Lentoth I and II, and had easily accessible raw materials, so it made sense that the Nerazim stopped there for a while.

What made no sense to Nabiros and Tekka, however, is building a tall tower made of some dark blue material next to what looked like a giant open-pit mine, easily a kilometer across and half deep. The tower was 6 sided, roughly 300 by 300 meters and around 120 meters tall. The top was flat, like a pencil whose top was precisely cut off. The tower had a few balconies and a lot of windows, giving it an almost friendly first impression. However, there was something odd with the material it was made of. It was black upon closer inspection but with pulsing blue veins, as if a vine crawler made of pure energy infested the otherwise pure obsidian structure.

"Why would you build a tower in a place that you know you will abandon?" Tekka wondered aloud.

"Maybe it was built after the Nerazim settled down on Shakuras. Wouldn't make sense otherwise." Nabiros concluded. "Can you detect anything? My sensors are picking up no signs of life."

"I cannot sense anything." she said after a few seconds. "It is very quiet. Not the peaceful silence, however... it is... the upset stillness of death."

"That's very... abstract..." the Purifier had a hard time making sense of ad-hoc poetry. "Let's fly a few circles above it at a distance to see if there are any traps or automated defense systems. Be vigilant."

Being this close as opposed to observing from orbit, the sensors started picking up a few unusual readings. Tekka switched to visual. "There are dead Terrans down there, several dozen with a landing craft. Debris of the same kind of craft scattered all around the tower. I cannot tell more from up here, we will have to go down there."

"An alarming development. We will land close to the tower and uncover this mystery." Nabiros was worried, for all his surface calm. He didn't want to have to deal with Terrans, the thieves and highwaymen of the sector. They made Interceptors look like a marvel of engineering.

The landing was uneventful but stressful nonetheless. The Nerazim were masters of ambushes, and Nabiros could easily imagine dozens of stealthed pop-up Photon Cannons appearing out of nowhere, maybe a few Khaydarin Monoliths too for good measure. He also imagined clusters of remote controlled Reaver Scarabs buried in the sand, waiting for the optimal moment to cause the most destruction. Perhaps even a few stasis bombs to give the defenses time to gun down the rest.

"You're standing still again." Tekka nudged him where his ribs would be.

"Oh, yes, I was just assessing the potential threats." Nabiros said quickly, then strode toward the nearest Terran corpse with confidence. "If there was anything to worry about we would have been attacked already. Based on that and the scenery, I think we should be safe for now."

"With emphasis on 'for now'..." Tekka muttered, following Nabiros warily, looking around for any potential danger. Reaching the corpse, she saw that Nabiros knelt down to examine it. Tekka decided to stand guard in the meantime, but she asked nonetheless. "You know much about the Terrans?"

"There are advantages to being a Purifier." he said in a casual tone as he turned the armoured shell around. "Access to information networks, perfect memory, effectively unlimited data storage..." he gently pulled the armour apart with his more precise cable arms where that 12 cm-ish hole was to examine the wound. "Very useful when you want to catch up with the times. While the Templars' archives are less than immaculate for obvious reasons, they always had a few spare Observers to keep an eye on the Terrans. Thankfully, they are much easier to make than find a use for, so when you do there's usually one on hand."

"I never thought you had an interest in Terrans, let alone so much that you would spy on them." Tekka chuckled.

"I just went through what little the archives had on Terrans." Nabiros stood up. "I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that these Terrans were pirates. Their colours and insignias don't match up with any known Terran faction, nor are they Moebius Corp. The bad news is that this poor animal was shot with something so big, fast, and hot that it punched a clean hole through his armour and body, partially cauterising the wound it caused. Only partially because the convulsions and the collapse ruined it. The even worse news is that even from a casual glance, the Terrans here died in a wide variety of ways. Crushed by what I can only guess was a localised gravity field, incinerated, electrocuted, cut to ribbons, and additionally a few instances of friendly fire and-or suicide. " Nabiros took a brief pause to look around. "It looks like there was an initial team who got to the entrance - see those corpses over there? The ones who seem to have been killed with photon blasts and psi blades? Then, when the rest of their brood realised something was wrong, they charged at it in full force, which turned out to be about as smart as Terrans attacking an Ultralisk with flamethrowers. Except there are corpses left and not just patches of red paste mixed with bits of equipment. I saw it myself, it was one of the few funny moments in the Void."

"The Terrans are excused, they are young." Tekka said dismissively. "The Zealots who jumped right after them, they are not. Only you Purifiers had the sense to stay away and let the immortals blast them to bits."

"We are fortunate to be able to retain our common sense even in the heat of battle." Nabiros shrugged and began appraising the tower. "Best I can tell, this tower either has no defenses outside, or I am forced to re-evaluate my views on Nerazim architecture. No other way to find out than to go inside."

"Shouldn't we send a probe in, just to be safe?" Tekka grabbed Nabiros' arm to stop him from being bullheaded like usual. "There could be traps there that could rip us apart, like them."

"A probe would not register as a threat, so the traps wouldn't activate." Nabiros strode on, pulling Tekka with him. "And cease your interruptions, we both need to focus."

As they walked towards the arched entrance, Tekka felt an ominous weight fall upon them, like layer upon layer of heavy silk, gentle to the touch but a burden on the mind. Just a moment before she entered the tower, a cold breeze blew out of the building. Tekka felt there was something wrong with it, especially upon seeing that it didn't move her clothes at all. She felt the urge to warn Nabiros but she couldn't make a sound. There was a stillness in that building, the weight of great loss, the kind that petrifies, that leaves nothing behind. However, beneath there was a disturbance, the trauma of that loss, the panic and pain of what happened, and a fear of the future.

Tekka followed Nabiros deeper and deeper into the tower, their footsteps disturbing the silence, almost disrespectfully. There were no decorations, no carvings, just empty corridors of deep black and pale blue. The lack of visual points of interest left her looking inward to solve the mystery of this place. The air felt dense and she could almost see whisps of smoke dancing here and there. They smelled of Terran gunshots and charred flesh. The Terrans had to die, they wanted to loot this place and that had to be avoided at any cost. Even if it meant their deaths. But whose? Yes, whose death? Did they ever truly die? They made sure, their corpses lay motionless outside, yes, they made sure. But more of them came, yes, more of them, they couldn't stop them, no, not as we were, we could not. We had to gather our strength to repel them, yes, so they could be sent back. But after that? We are we now, there is no going back, no reversing it! How long can we last like this? The Matriarch must be told! She must send new guardians! We must inform Shakuras!

Tekka suddenly realised that Nabiros was shaking her. "What... what is going on... stop... Stop. I'm fine, you can stop shaking me now, STOP IT!"

Nabiros let her go. "You were muttering something about Shakuras and other nonsense." he explained in an unusually concerned tone. "I had to make sure to shake you until you were completely out of it. This place is flooded with erratic Void energies but I cannot pinpoint its source." seeing Tekka's wide-eyed expression, he turned around, and saw for himself.

What stood before them was a roaring inferno of pure, red Void energies, twice as tall as they were. Through the rippling air, they could see that there was someone inside there, a large person clad in the torn remnants of a black robe, with ornate black pauldrons. To their shock, the being had three hooded heads, the faces shrouded in darkness except for the brightly glowing red eyes. Its arms were unusual as well: there was no sign of the right arm except for a disproportionately large, clawed hand of pure darkness, while its left melded into what probably once was a photon rifle from the elbow, replacing the left forearm and hand entirely, in a grotesque melding of flesh and metal. The rifle itself was warped as well, a crude, short-barrelled cannon, its Khaydarin crystals overgrown, bent and twisted like the spines of some horrific beast.

The entity leaned forward, its heads seemingly elongating in a disturbingly not anatomical way, leaning on its cannon-arm in mock recognition of gravity, and pointed at the two visitors with its barely material hand. **"You seem Protoss but also not. Who are you?"** the telepathic voice sounded like a badly synchronised choir of a dozen minds, a whisper so loud it could cut stone. Tekka collapsed on the ground, clutching her head, while Nabiros seemed not at all affected by it.

Nabiros put up his hands in surrender. "Before I answer you I must clarify: you are the guardian of this Nerazim shrine, a Nerazim yourself?"

 **"Yes, we are. We serve the Matriarch Razsagal, we have come here on her bidding.** _It was so long ago, I don't even know!_ I can barely remember! _It's so hard to focus..."_

Nabiros took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering. "Then you should know that the current Matriarch is Razsagal's daughter, Vorazun..."

 **"What happened to Razsagal? _"_** the entity's many minds were worryingly synchronised for this question, their tension apparent.

Nabiros shifted a little. "Let's face it: you are an unstable Dark Archon of an unprecedented kind and I'm here to tell you a lot of bad news and a lot of good news as well, so can we first agree that we are on the same side? I answer to her, just like you."

The Archon's heads tilted, then looked at each other. " _I can understand his position._ Yes, sometimes even I get scared of ourselves." they turned back to Nabiros. **"Speak, then, mechanical Protoss who serves the daughter of our old Matriarch, and we will listen."**

Nabiros was visibly releaved, his stance relaxed. "Yes, I will tell you everything you have missed. But could you try and not ravage my friend's mind? You have quite a presence, you know."

The Archon straightened, its black hand covering the middle head's non-existant mouth. " _Oh, yes, we forgot about that._ Be thankful this is the worst that we are doing. **You have eased our worries of further strandedness, for which we are thankful, but even talking is difficult for us.** _We are just barely holding on to our sanity and focus._ We will never know sanity anymore. We must embrace what we have become. **We need help. We cannot remain like this for long.** _We are what we are._ She meant that we need help staying alive, in one piece. _Oh, right, sorry."_ they floated back a few paces, then a few more, then quite a bit more, until Tekka could pull herself back together.

"That was... intense..." she shook her head as she tood up. She seemed unusually menacing. "I will do what I can to help but it will no be a pleasant experience."

"Are you going to read them boring historical accounts until they fall asleep?" Nabiros asked mockingly.

"Pfhah, you will see soon enough." with a gesture, Tekka telekinetically pulled a small, cylindrical object from her robe, and flew it to one of her severed nerve cords.

"What is... that is a Terrazine injector!" Nabiros gasped. "Stop thi..." but he was cut short by the gentle hiss as the raw Terrazine was injected directly into Tekka's nervous system.

At the same time, she lifted her gauntleted hands and gestured towards the Archons, as if to grab it. Suddenly, convulsions wrecked her body, and red lightning crackled over her, from her head to her arms, then they leapt at the Archon like whips, connecting the two. The Archon left itself open, and let the lightning whips lick around its glowing form. At first the aura held against the intrustion, but then it flowed through it, like a dispersing cloud, the Archon's body also fading somewhat, while Tekka seemed to gain some of that eerie glow. Nabiros could only watch the spectacle, his sensors' many readouts leaving him none the wiser as to what is exactly happening. Still, he could deduce that somehow Tekka and the three heads of the Archon are circulating their energies through each other.

After several minutes of waiting, Nabiros realised that this process seems to require more time than he expected, so he sent a probe to keep an eye on them while he dealt with more important matters. _I never had the opportunity to inspect Terran technology, if one could call it that._

With the help of his probes, he took stock of the available Terran equipment that was not damaged by their encounter with a newborn Archon. Nabiros was looking for anything inspiring in the design of the weapons, armour, or anything the Terrans had. _Aaah, the "Gauss Rifle" I heard them call it. It spits chiseled garbage in the general direction it is pointed. Needlessly heavy as well. And then there's the flamethrower. It might have been useful when they were still fighting amongst themselves but... flamethrowers? Against a tidal wave of zerglings or packs of zealots? Really? They are becoming rare, though, so it might be a sign of progress. I like the armour though. Ridiculously heavy, restrictive, and flimsy, but it does protect the entire body, as well as provide first aid. If our zealots had actual armour instead of that silly dress, among a legion of other practical issues with our wargear, maybe Aiur would not have fallen, not to mention a score of other tragedies that could have been avoided. As shocking as it sounds, but the Terrans survived what almost eradicated us. But how? How could they survive two obviously superior species having a war in their corner of space? What can you reveal to me, Gauss Rifle? Yes, you shall remain with me. You are the symbol of my conundrum. Also because that flying slab of metal you call a ship does not fit in mine._


	4. Chapter 4

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.08

 **Location:** Lentoth III, Nerazim Shrine  
 **Time:** Evening

"What took you so long?" Nabiros asked an exhausted Tekka who was sitting against a wall in the corridor where he left her.

"Sorting out hastily and messily conjoined souls is much harder than it might sound." Tekka groaned with tired irritation. "But we managed to stabilise them to the point where they can leave the shrine that helped them stay alive."

" _Well, 'stable' is a wishful exaggeration._ More like 'manageably painful'." the Archon muttered to itself a few metres away. It did look considerably better, though: the thick red mist of Void energy was less like a fresh nebula wrecked with ion storms and more like a dense ball of erratically whirling gas. " **We do not wish to die. This form of existence is interesting to us. We would seek your help in improving our... 'health'.** "

"Neither of us are Templar of any kind, what we know of Archons just barely qualifies as superficial." Tekka said, turning her head to the Archon. "I am a librarian and he is an engineer. We cannot help you."

"Speak for yourself." said Nabiros dismissively. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

"We have twelve souls shoved into the same place, and reportedly, it's painful." Tekka quipped before the Archon could respond.

"That makes sense." Nabiros pondered. "In essence, the Archon merging is about two people merging into one people. There are a lot of things I don't know or can even guess at, but it is similar to a number of... more material issues that I'm familiar with." his audience looked at him expectantly. "You see, Archon merging is never a carefully executed process, especially in this case. In short, if we could 'heat' the Archon up to the original 'melting point', then we could disassemble it to its basic parts, then carefully reassemble them into a sustainable form. So we need only put the Archon into a Terrazine geyser and you thirteen can sort the rest out on your own."

There was a moment of silence as his audience considered his proposal. "It makes more sense than you might realise." Tekka nodded, thinking aloud. "Archons are almost always formed in combat and they rarely live long enough to see its end. I think it has something to do with the will of the Archon's component Templar: in combat, they want to eradicate their enemies - hence the Archons' legendary attitude - but after it is over, they disagree on what they should do next, so they are trying to 'go two different ways', and then the Archon ceases to exist." Tekka looked up to the Archon for confirmation.

" **We do find it easier to be when we agree.** _Like when we agreed on stressing over not being able to contact the Matriarch for Adun knows how long._ It is unbelievable how our incompetence is keeping us alive, I'm not even sure if it's funny." the Archon seemed enthusiastic. " **We believe that the mechanical Protoss' plan is worth investigating. We know of several planets with Terrazine deposits. We would greatly appriciate any help you could provide us.** _Especially since Dark Archons are banned._ Anyone else would have run home screaming, and nobody wants to be on the other end of an orbital bombardment."

"Yes, we will help you." Nabiros replied before Tekka could stop him. "We don't have any pressing obligations, and this promises to be an interesting scientific project. In fact, I hereby officially welcome you to the crew of the Explorer!"

" **We thank you for the invitation and humbly accept.** " the Archon bowed a little, its relief palpable.

"But why would you do that..." Tekka muttered to herself in disbelief. She stood up and poked Nabiros in the chest. "You are aware that it could obliterate the entire ship in a bad mood swing?"

"I already have the basic plan of a containment chamber, and by the time we return to the ship it will be complete." Nabiros replied with indignation in his voice, as if he could ever be caught without having a plan for what he intends to do.

"And then what?" she asked angrily.

"We go to a planet with a Terrazine geyser, you two get in, and you fix it." Nabiros' displeasure with Tekka's complaining was becoming more apparent with every word. "Everything beyond that is subject to the outcome of this project."

Tekka just stared at him angrily for a few moments, her eyes just barely seeing the stubborn Purifier as her mind focused on the matter at hand. "Very well. But since we have to report to Vorazun about this shrine, which means going back to Aiur's system at least, I will need access to all available information about Archons if I am to play phase-smith with souls."

Nabiros thought for a moment, then nodded. "A reasonable request. Granted. It is time to leave."

It took the phase-smith 4 days to complete the containment chamber. Fortunately, there was a small cache of minerals in the underground levels of the shrine, probably leftovers from the original construction. This allowed Nabiros to do some testing before installing the device in Secondary Storage, which turned out to be a very, very good idea. In his defense, there were no scientific records of the capabilities of an Archon, let alone a Dark Archon made up of 12 Nerazim scholars. But each failure only made him more enthusiastic, and amazed with the Archon's power.

Part of the testing was telling the Archon about the years it missed out on, while it was inside the containment chamber. It was Tekka's idea, and Nabiros was more than thankful for it when the Archon melted the first prototype after being told that Razshagal was first infested by Kerrigan then killed by Zeratul. No other information managed to create more stress in the Archon, so Nabiros prepared the containment chamber for ten times worse just to be sure. The end result was a rather bulky and complex cell that offered little comfort except for a connection to the ship's archives, to provide some diversion in the empty hours.

Before leaving the planet, they left behind a short-range beacon that warned outsiders that the planet belonged to the Daelaam, as well as loaded up some minerals for future use. The crew of the Explorer made their way back to Aiur's solar system.

Tekka and Nabiros weren't sure how the Archon would react to being in space and experiencing warp jumps, but even it was surprised by how peaceful the stars felt, and how 'ticklish' warp jumps were. The other two quickly deduced that Archons experience and sense the world around them vastly differently than they do. They weren't sure if they were missing out on something, so they just left their newest crewmember to its occasional sighs and giggles.

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.07.10

 **Location:** Aiur, Citadel of the Executors  
 **Time:** Morning

Vorazun was never fond of mornings, but after moving to Aiur and settling in she hated them with a passion.

During the day, the problems and issues that needed her personal attention came at a steady pace, so it was managable, sometimes even easy on a good day. At night she relaxed, sometimes with combat exercises, sometimes with laying on the floor of her room and enjoying the peace and quiet. Then, she meditated, her one reliable source of inner peace and strength. However, all that was shattered every morning, as the reports piled up in the night and crushed her under their weight. She felt increasing sympathy for the Khalai of old, who were also probably driven insane by the sheer weight of governance and the myriad ways of annoyances it carried, like a Leviathan full of Scourges.

This morning was no different. The daily security reports from the border patrols were devoid of anything noteworthy, for which she was always thankful, but the ones sent in from internal security were always the ones that got to her. Back on Shakuras, being a Matriarch wasn't too much work; besides overseeing a few projects and making decisions about colonising and the occasional odd thing that happened, it was usually just 'do your thing but don't be stupid, or I will shove you into an escape pod and shoot you into the sun'. Nerazim could handle that, being of the individualistic and resourceful types. Even the Tal'darim were easier to deal with, you just bashed the loudest complainer until they begged for mercy and everything was sorted out.

But the Khalai and the Purifiers, Adun be merciful, they were a pain in the ass. See, there are three wildly different mindsets among them. The current generation of Khalai are just mildly annoying, since they've been around since the first war with the Zerg and have been humbled enough to have less of an ego, but all this experience made them act like they are the leaders of the Daelaam, the ones whose example should be followed without question. Then there were the Khalai who came from the Spear of Adun, Protoss who grew up in a time when their species was at its greatest, so the contrast between that time and their current era deeply upset them - on a daily basis, considering the internal security reports and the recurring themes within them. They just cannot stop talking about 'the good old days' and generally being obsolete and in dire need of some mental refurbishing. Lastly, the Purifiers, while supporting the previous camp's ideas most of the time, were partially paranoid about becoming slaves, or worse, put into stasis again, partially confused about who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives, with the additional conundrom that was practical immortality. Being Templar and literally made for war, they were arrogant and belligerent (or as they liked to say, 'sensitive about their honour and being ready to defend it under all circumstances'), so disputes were usually settled in non-lethal combat, unless either the other person surrendered or an arbitrator could be named. Without there being official arbitrators, everyone named their own faction's leader, which, to Vorazun, felt like being the mother of insolent children.

So it's easy to imagine how mixed her feelings were when she saw that Nabiros sent her a message as well. On one hand, she reflexively thought that the phase-smith offended someone or did something stupid and now she had to deal with it; on the other hand, she wondered why would the Purifier send word so soon after his departure.

" _Matriarch Vorazun_ " she read the message. " _My colleague, the Tal'darim librarian Tekka and I have visited Lentoth III, which is said to have been the first stop of the Nerazim who originally fled from Aiur with Adun. We were hoping to find a shrine there, which we did._ I didn't know we had one there. However, our archives on Shakuras could not be saved entirely, so it's no wonder that we forgot about it. _However, we found said shrine having recently repelled an attack by Terran pirates._ That's not good. _The twelve Nerazim scholars who were guarding the shrine have merged into a single Dark Archon,_ what _which is miraculously intact and relatively stable._ What. _We have taken the Archon with us to find a Terrazine geyser where we believe we can stabilise the Dark Archon enough so that it is no longer in constant pain._ But... _I write to you in the scholars' name to send new guardians to the shrine for its protection, as well as a few scholars to catalogue whatever knowledge that is stored there. En Taro Adun, Nabiros, Phase-Smith of the Purifiers."_

Vorazun quietly pushed her chair back and rested her head on the table. She truly, passionately, feverishly hated mornings.

She awoke from her stupor by the one voice that she consistently liked to hear. "Matriarch, I brought you the revised schematics of the Citadel as you requested." Karax said. This wasn't the first time she saw her in such a passive state of screaming internally, so he waited patiently for her response.

"You know Karax, I think I finally realised that as an Executor, I should spare my energy for the real challenges of governance, not the day-to-day social maintenance of the entire capital. I cannot muster the strength to deal with the extreme cases that show up sometimes." she said in a tired voice.

"You mean to say that you would rather leave the arbitration and general peacekeeping to someone else?" Karax asked carefully, having learned that speech is just another form of engineering, albeit a much more risky one.

"I'm thinking about an entire group of someone elses." she said dreamily. "Yes, lots of someone elses."

"Then why not employ the Tal'darim?" Vorazun immediately turned to him but did not comment yet. Seeing that he has little time, Karax hurried to explain. "The Tal'darim have managed to keep a very orderly society, despite all the brutality in their culture, whereas the Daelaam are currently experiencing a void of normalcy and order. Who better to give it to them than those with experience in the matter? You need only specify what "order" means, define their terms of conduct, and after a brief period of increased frustration, the Daelaam will slowly but surely settle into a more orderly and peaceful day to day life."

Vorazun stood up, walked to the phase-smith, and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Karax. You have no idea how much relief this is for me."

Karax returned the hug, gently patting the overburdened Matriarch's shoulder. "Happy to help. It's just another day in the Citadel." they both chuckled on that. Karax once again came to the same conclusion as dozens of times each day: the Templar have no concept of common sense.


	5. Chapter 5

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.16

 **Location:** Tolmyr IV  
 **Time:** Dusk

Fortunately for the crew of the Explorer, the trip to the closest supposed location of a Terrazine geyser went by without incident. In fact, the Archon even said that its containment chamber felt "comfortable", and "relaxing" even. It spent most of its time in meditation or reading the archives. While it certainly wasn't happy about a great deal of things that happened, the Archon said that everything turned out the best way possible, and that the fallout of the war could very well prove to be more interesting than the war itself. The other two decided not to discuss this particular topic further.

The mood was less than ideal, however. Tekka secluded herself to prepare for the trial ahead but her usual enthusiasm towards research was replaced with venom towards Nabiros, who she called a soulless automaton on more than one occasion. In turn, Nabiros called her an inept coward and that he would be glad to drop her on the nearest Protoss planet; he also secluded himself, working on plans to upgrade and improve the Explorer. As a third party, the Archon politely pointed out that they are both blackmailing the other into doing what they do best, using those qualities that the other is the most uncomfortable with. Needless to say, this only made the situation worse. The tormented scholars decided to take matters into their own hands, and wait for the right opportunity to present itself.

Upon arriving to Tolmyr IV, orbital scans quickly found a Terrazine geyser - along with a small Tal'darim outpost guarding it. In theory, they could land next to a geyser without risking detection, but firstly, there were no other geysers on the planet surface, meaning that finding another underground would be mean weeks of searching they didn't have time for, secondly, there was no way to be sure that the restoration ritual (as the crew started calling it after a few days) would go undetected by the Tal'darim. Deciding to go with a straightforward diplomatic approach, Nabiros asked permission to land for "refuelling and trade negotiations". Surprised and intrigued, the Tal'darim commander agreed to his request.

From orbit, Tolmyr IV looked like a pearl of the purest white, with small dark lines across its surface that made it look like marble a bit. The planet was covered in snow, and only volcanic activity kept some places warm enough to reveal the earth and rock beneath the thick, white blanket. Near one such active volcano, a large and incredibly deep crater could be found, which could easily have been the work of precision orbital fire according to Nabiros. Around this crater was the outpost, though energy readings suggested that there was more underground. The Tal'darim have set up a large shield barrier to protect their settlement from various environmental hazards, such as the brutal snow storms that raged across the surface of the planet, and the occasional rock, lava, and hot ash spewed by the volcano. Further scans revealed basic (by Protoss standards) terraforming technology at work on the volcano, redirecting its wrath from the outpost to the rest of the region. It was quite the investment but when it came to Terrazine, the Tal'darim spared no expense.

Deciding not to show all their cards at first, Nabiros decided to meet the greeting party by himself, and call Tekka and the Archon out only when it becomes necessary. Walking down the ramp of his ship, he saw a dozen Tal'darim zealots, and an ascendant as far as he could tell from the ornamented armour. Fortunately, the Tal'darim were just as driven by hubris with their armour design as the Khalai of old, with only minor differences compared to the traditional Templar zealot armour. Only the ascendant was cause for concern. The Tal'darim had the discouraging habit of specialising in quick hit-and-run attacks that left no surivors, which requires a focus on raw speed and power with enough finesse to be able to juggle the two. By that logic, to counter the psionic assault of an ascendant, you had to be either fast enough to dodge, powerful enough to block it, tough enough to shrug it off, or smart enough to counter the whole bag of problems. Still, Nabiros resolved to attempt a peaceful resolution before resorting to violence. Then again, the Tal'darim had a wildly different idea about what could be considered a "peaceful resolution".

Keeping a cautious distance of six metres, he introduced himself and bowed slightly. "I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers."

The Tal'darim waited for a moment, expecting a longer introduction, maybe some explanation even. Receiving none, the ascendant spoke, refusing to return the polite bow. "I am Alderan, commander of this outpost owing allegiance to Alarak, High Lord of the Tal'darim." his voice was rough, his speech snappy and lacking the finesse that was common to Tal'darim. Or maybe Nabiros was too used to Tekka's sassy style. "Normally I would laugh at a request to refuel, but I am curious what a Purifier is doing so far from home."

"I require your Terrazine geyser to perform an experiment." Nabiros said it as bluntly. "What would be necessary to acquire your agreement?"

The commander was so surprised that his knee-jerk reaction came a second later than normal. "I will not allow you to defile the Breath of Creation!" he shouted in anger. "Scurry home before I cut you to pieces!"

"You misunderstand." Nabiros shook his head, just barely managing to maintain a peaceful tone. "I will stay on my ship. My colleague, a Tal'darim, will escort the test subject, a Dark Archon, to the geyser, in an attempt to allow the Dark Archon a prolonged existence."

Alderan's eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed back in suspicion. "I do not sense anyone on your ship, Purifier. What game are you playing?"

It was Nabiros' turn to be surprised. "What? That cannot be right, they are..."

" **You are taking too long.** " the voice of the Archon rumbled across them, as it and Tekka appeared in a whirl of ethereal smoke on Nabiros' side. " **Tal'darim commander, this is your final warning. Surrender control of the outpost or your hold on life.** "

Nabiros detected a sharp increase in void energies in the vicinity, which explained why the zealots collapsed in convulsions. Alderan clutched his head in apparent pain. "I... will not surrender... to an abomination..."

" **As you wish."** the Dark Archon flicked its black hand once and the ascendant was erupted in ruby flames, then collapsed as his body quickly turned into ash, leaving behind only his pristine armour, clanging as it fell on the ground. It turned its heads to its comrades, gesturing towards the outpost. " **Shall we?** "

Despite himself, Nabiros felt chilled to the bone he wasn't aware he had. To his surprise, Tekka seemed impressed with the Archon's bloody work, looking at it with a kind of awe. Nabiros came to realise that there was a stark difference between defeating the enemy and murdering them. Defeat was a result of conflict where the given party become powerless to resist the will of the opposing party. Murder was a punishment inflicted nonchalantly upon those who wasted the time of those far more powerful than themselves.

"Why?" was all Nabiros could utter in his shock.

The Archon stopped, slowly turned around to face him, its eyes seemingly looking into and past him. With a little sadness in its voice, the Archon put its large hand on Nabiros' shoulder and said, " **The incorrigibly foolish seldom permit peaceful resolutions. Is that not why the Purifiers were made?** "

Nabiros felt his heart drop into his stomach. Was he really made to be the same? How could one knowingly inflict this fate upon another without their consent? _Only if they are automatons,_ he thought immediately. Is this the full extent of his fate? To butcher whoever his superiors pointed at? To live and die like some zergling? To be nothing but a disposable tool? Suddenly, images of the short-lived Purifier rebellion flashed before him. The arrogant Conclave as it played god, the servile Templar who obeyed them without a second thought, their unconscionable attitude towards the Purifiers, as they condemned them to be as soulless as they had to be to judge them so. Before he realised what he was doing, he punched the Archon in the face.

"I am not a murderer!" THUD "I am not a machine!" THUD "I am free!" THUD "I am Protoss!" THUD

Nabiros found himself quivering with rage, apparently having punched the Archon's black hand with his right fist to no effect. As the madness lifted from his mind, he felt a piercing pain in his chest so unbearable he thought he would choke. He fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Somewhere he was aware that were he capable of such a thing, he would sob, but as he was now, he could only sit in silence, like a ruin mutely lamenting its fate.

To his surprise, he felt a large hand and the barrel of a cannon that was strangely warm touch his hands, separating them, then lifting him up by his armpits until he stood on his own legs, even if only weakly. For a moment, he felt he managed to stare into the eyes of the Archon, as if its entire being was present in that single pair of gently glowing rubies. " **It takes a soul to be upset, especially this much.** " Nabiros could sense both the wisdom and the humour in the Archon's words, and suddenly he felt relieved, having finally found proof that he had a soul. He felt lighter, as if boulders the size of Reavers were lifted from his chest and shoulders. He felt a gentle touch on his arm.

"I owe you an apology." Tekka muttered, as if only barely managing to push the words through her pride. "For calling you an automaton. I wasn't aware. I'm sorry."

Turning to her, Nabiros put his hand on her shoulder. "And I apologise as well, for calling you coward and inept. I know you to be quite the opposite." he felt Tekka's hand slide down from his shoulder to his hand, tightening on it for a moment, then letting go. She said nothing, only nodding in acknowledgement.

As they turned around, they saw the smouldering remains of the two photon cannons that guarded the landing pad. They turned to the Archon in silent wonder, who only shrugged and said, " **We are good at multitasking.** " Not wanting to know to the details, they said nothing, and walked towards the outpost like nothing noteworthy happened, leaving behind destroyed photon cannons, comatose Tal'darim, and immeasurable weight from their souls.


	6. Chapter 6

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.16

 **Location:** Tolmyr IV  
 **Time:** Night

Tekka noticed with some satisfaction that in the post-Amon world, the Tal'darim grew a sense of independence, not in definace of the chain of ascension, but to survive. There comes a time when devotion to ideals becomes infeasible, and self-preservation reveals itself as a cost effective solution. Of course it happens the other way as well, but when a Dark Archon comes marching into your poorly defended, remote, and tiny outpost, you either hide or cooperate, depending on the circumstances. The locals required no persuasion to point them in the right direction, and the door guards were polite enough not to cause trouble.

Entering the geyser's chamber, they noticed it's not actually a chamber at all, just very far down the crater they saw from orbit, they could even see a tiny light up above, a lonely star in a stone sky. Beneath, purple clouds whirled to ethereal winds, and space itself seemed to ripple where the gas was thickest. A thin ramp lead to a small platform in the middle of the shaft, just above the main mass of the roiling Terrazine. A thought occured to Nabiros.

"Remind me, why are you able to do this?" he asked, attempting to sound casual but there was enough hint of worry in his voice that Tekka chuckled a little inside.

"You know how the chain of ascension works, correct?" she asked, eyeing the purple gas with a mix of calculation and awe.

"Yes." he nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

"It works the same way for librarians." she said as she walked toward the platform with purpose. "We protect knowledge the Tal'darim way." she laughed. "Come, Archon, it is time to meet death once more before you can be reborn."

Nabiros just stood and blinked, producing several theories as to what she meant but requiring clarification nonetheless. Seeing how she was otherwise occupied at the moment, he postponed the discussion to a later date.

With the ramp at the 12 o'clock position, Tekka stood at 3, while the Archon stood at 9, who almost filled the entire available room by itself. Still, there was a solid 2 metre between it and Tekka, and 1 metre behind each of them. There were no rails, so falling down was a possibility, though with both of them capable of floating, Nabiros wasn't particularly worried about it. He went back behind the door, closed it, and stood at the observation window next to it. When he had to experiment or demonstrate, he too preferred his observers in appropriate observing positions, so it seemed only fair to show the same courtesy to others.

Tekka, however, was experiencing a little stage fright. She always preferred to leave everyone to their imaginations as to her capabilities, and pushing herself to her limits and maybe beyond felt both risky and intimate in a way she was absolutely not prepared for. Still, she was never known for backing out of a challenge or not getting a job done, so every available circumstance pushed her towards success. Except for the sheer impossibility of what she was going to do on a conceptual level, and the daunting task that was actually succeeding in shuffling the Archon just right.

Initially, the three of them would work together on the process, but it was drenched in psionics and symbolism so much that Nabiros felt entirely useless and 'let the professionals work in peace'. Between the thirteen of them, as she was drawn into the internal conversation for the sake of speed and clarity, they concluded that there was shockingly little research done into Archons. It made sense, though, considering how short-lived an Archon usually is, and how each attempt would require a pair of sacrifices, so they could understand without condemnation the raw aversion the Khalai must have felt when they resolved the issue by simply never bringing it up again, and just working with what they had. Fortunately for Tekka and the Nerazim scholars, they had much, much more.

The first thing that the Archon noticed in its first calm moment is that it feels wrongly put, like a grammatically horrible sentence that managed to manifest in the physical world, so Nabiros' idea to 'disassemble then reassemble' was absolutely the correct, and in essence what had to be done.

The second thing it noticed were the factors that contributed to its increased lifespan. On the immaterial side, they were sent to Lentoth III because they were very like-minded people (they refused to elaborate), so they usually agreed on most things that were worth having a discussion about. However, they were each a unique person, which meant that there were a billion tiny things they disagreed about, which normally would have been a dividing factor, but each of them enjoyed those little things about the other, so when those thoughts occured, they each felt close because of it. While concord was a key factor, not producing discord seemed just as important. On the material side, one of the scholars was a rifle enthusiast, to the point where he received phase-smith training on Shakuras, then went back to his beloved archives, but this time armed with his custom-made photon rifle. When it came to that rifle, his enthusiasm became an obsession, and he even meditated with it. The others understood how important this attachment this was for him, and they could not imagine him without his beloved rifle, and had always helped him find it when it got lost somehow. Combined with the shocking realisation that the appearance of an Archon is largely dependant on how the comprising individuals imagine them, which in turn is influenced by what they heard of it, it made a weird kind of sense that the scholars would be beyond reluctant to leave the rifle behind as they became the Archon, which created a physical anchor for a creature that is halfway material, halfway immaterial, and can easily get confused inbetween.

The third clue came after a while of thinking. Archons are always made with haste and in dire circumstances, never in a calm, organised, planned fashion. Therefore, it seemed logical to assume that if the original process was slow enough, then the souls comprising the Archon could be properly assembled, creating a pure and whole entity.

The fourth followed quickly. Because of the haste, there is no time for the dissolving forces in the Archon to deny the 'birth' from taking place, and also the creating forces can't dissipate fast enough to drop below the critical point. This meant that the process required a setting with enough energy that would remain at or above said critical level for as long as necessary.

The fifth clue required days to find. The reassembling process required the full attention of each soul, however, they required an anchor amidst the myriad shifting forces that are present during the process, a lighthouse that they can use as guide, a mirror that they can be reflected upon so they could pour through it. They needed someone who could function as a bridge between the material and the immaterial worlds, and fate provided them with Tekka.

Of course, the scholars were not willing to risk the ritual without fully understanding what the conduit would have to do and what would they be exposed to. After hours of experimenting, it turned out to be simple: Tekka allowed the Archon to use her hand to touch its cannon arm (the rifle enthusiast was curious how it felt, and was satisfied with the experience). Obviously this would be hundreds of times more intense, so the high-energy environment had to be able to empower her as well. Nabiros having suggested a Terrazine geyser made much more sense after this realisation.

To the Archon's and Tekka's surprise and horror, the ritual itself was simple: provide high-energy environment, disassemble Archon, reassemble Archon, while the conduit keeps the souls on a long leash and maintains an absolute hold on her identity. It was the kind of all-or-nothing game that the Tal'darim lived and died for, so Tekka was happy to volunteer, while the Archon's options were a fast or slow death, or risking the ritual, which if succeeds meant a livable existence, but if it failed it would die in relative peace. The scholars' choice was made before they listed their options.

However, as Tekka stood above the geyser's mouth, she came to the painful realisation that the ritual hinges on her performance. When she convinced the Archon she was all bravado, but now it was showtime, and while she felt a strong urge to prove her crew that she was not some archivist skeleton who required a probe's assistance to clean herself, she also had concerns about the likelyhood of her success. She slowly raised her arm from her sides into the air, calling forth the Terrazine from the depths.

Her doubts vanished at the first touch of the purple gas, and as it enveloped her, she felt like the best person for the job. However, in front of her the Archon was experiencing the same tidal wave of power, setting its form ablaze as it stood with arms held up, like her. She could only imagine how the Archon felt, but the waves of raw power emanating from it served as a humbling reminder that no matter how powerful she feels right now, it is but a candle to the inferno. Responding to the energies within it, the Terrazine began to swirl and howl like an ethereal storm struggling to shift into the material realm to tear the world apart. With a respectful motion and unfettered by the winds, she reached out toward the Archon and lashed out to disect it with ruby whips of lightning. As before, the whips licked at resistance at first but soon coiled around the Archon's form. However, the Archon did not merely 'pour out' into a slightly larger shape. Within seconds, the once-stable form of the Archon was blown away by the winds and into the storm, which quickly turned from purple to red, and twelve Protoss-shaped shades of smoke could be seen, each tethered to Tekka by one of her crackling tendrils; a little above where the Archon stood floated the warped cannon within a ball of silky, dark grey smoke.

Tekka held unto her twelve leashes with ferocious resolution, never letting her prey out of her grasp. It was an exhilarating experience as she helped reforge what could easily be called a demigod, something that she, for a moment, longed to be. Then the realisation hit her: as much as she admired the Archon, she did not want to be one. She admittedly wanted to ascend into something greater, so she obviously empathised with the scholars who wanted to wholly become what they remotely became in a panicked moment, but she saw it as their own, personal ascension, not her own. The revelation struck home with a force akin to what obliterated Amon's host body: she will always be Tekka, and continually ascend into being more like herself. In that moment, she felt more Tal'darim than ever before, she felt a sense of belonging she never felt before, but most of all a sense of self-appriciation she never believed even existed. A tidal wave of relief, satisfaction, and joy washed through her, so gentle she could cry, so peaceful she could fall asleep, so rejuvenating that she felt she would never age. In that blissful moment, she found peace at last, and she chose to use it to bring peace to twelve troubled souls, so that they could find their own.

As if by her wish, dozens of pockets opening to foreign dimensions seemed to open, and pouring out of them came silky smoke, roaring fire, and crackling lightning, all converging on the orb of smoke amidst them all, like rivers flowing towards a growing lake. Slowly, one by one the Protoss shades drifted towards it, each increasing the size of the whirling orb. Tekka felt like a pillar in a tornado, and in the shade she provided, in the eye of the storm the orb slowly grew, like an embryo in a mammal, readying itself for the life outside. After the final soul entered the orb, which eventually became as large as the Archon originally was, the red gas converged on the orb, as if sucked in by vacuum, especially by the sound of it. Soon after, as if someone fixed the hole on a ship's hull and everything returned to normal, Tekka found herself on her knees, exhausted beyond expression, the Terrazine was gently whirling beneath her _I thought it reached higher than that_ , and in front of her stood the Archon.

The main change was the disappearance of the orb of whirling energy that usually surrounds an archon. Instead, now he looked like a very large Protoss with 3 hooded heads in an old, tattered grey robe that was missing from below the waist and the forearm, and where limbs ought to be it had thick beams of pure energy, and all this floated atop a pillar of energy that suspiciously looked like as if the part of the robe below the waist gave up on being made of matter and turned into energy, Tekka was fairly certain she could even see the folds. The arm cannon was still a lightly nauseating mix of metal and crystal that looked like a hellish porcupine with a hole for a face, but at least it wasn't fleshy and anatomically it still looked like the replacement of the forearm, though Nabiros was absolutely certain that the Archon had no such limitations as joints and their anatomically feasible angles. Regardless, the Archon looked much more stable than before, and even more importantly, content and not giving off an aura that makes you want to claw your eyes out.

"A resounding success!" Nabiros cheered as he entered the shaft. "If we ever return the records and the readouts of this experiment..."

"We will be lynched." Tekka interjected.

"Don't be so pessimistic!" Nabiros dismissed her claim jokingly, which Tekka interpreted that while he agrees but doesn't care. He walked up to the Archon whose heads were looking around, as if being able to see for the first time. "How do you feel?"

" **We feel... whole.** " the Archon said distantly, its voice sounding more 'present' than ever before, as if it were an actual Protoss chorus standing right there, instead of people with noticably different voices saying the same thing at different speed from the same general direction. " **Our senses are so clear it is hard to express. We will need time to grow accustomed to our new form, but we are free of pain and any inconvenience. We cannot properly express our gratitude to you, but we thank you nevertheless, from the bottom of all our hearts.** _Especially mine, seeing my beloved rifle partially covered in my own flesh was disturbing._ Yes, and we don't look like a snapshot of a bomb that just exploded with the three idiots who were holding it. Much appriciated. _Our aim should have improved significantly, now that we can see properly and our premonition works again. I wonder if the rifle is affected..._ **As you can see, we are very enthusiastic about our new form. Thankfully, serving on the Explorer will provide us ample opportunities for testing.** And adventure. _Yes, we will no longer be held back!_ We learned our lesson, being in a ridiculously powerful form we shouldn't use it to cause trouble. **Correct. We owe the memory of Raszagal, and her living daughter, Vorazun that much. Nabiros is our captain, we follow his orders for as long as he honours the Daelaam in deed, word, and thought.** "

"I'm glad that you feel well, and I appriciate your words." Nabiros bowed, then walked to the still kneeling Tekka. "However, it is time we left this place. Tekka, how do you feel?"

"Like after too much sex, happy but tired." she sighed.

"Well that was... a straightforward comparison." Nabiros blinked in mild embarrassment. "Archon, could you take her back to the ship to rest? I will join you shortly, I just have to leave a message, like before."

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.07.20

 **Location:** Aiur, Citadel of the Executors  
 **Time:** Afternoon

Artanis was having a great day. In the past few days, they drafted a number of significant changes for how the Daelaam will be governed in the near future. He was so happy that each council session produced results instead of arguments, that everyone felt heard and included. He talked with a number of senior Judicators and widely respected Nerazim, Purifiers, and Tal'darim about what should be done and how, and while their means of achieving them were different, they all wanted peace, order, and an opportunity at a meaningful life.

As he was walking through the many corridors of the Citadel to discuss city plans with Karax, he saw a courier running toward him.

"Hierarch!" he shouted. "Urgent message from High Lord Alarak!"

Artanis grew worried. What could it be? "At ease, courier, if it was truly urgent, Alarak would have contacted me personally."

"I'm sorry, Hierarch, the Tal'darim courier was very explicit that you must be given this message as soon as possible." the man said, looking worried, and gave Artanis a small black box with the red Tal'darim symbol on top of it.

"Thank you, courier, you may leave." Artanis nodded, the courier bowed curtly then left.

Artanis opened the small box in the privacy of his quarters. Inside it, he found a simplified memory crystal. These were used for raw information storage, not for wholesome memories. If Alarak wanted to talk, he contacted him personally, he never sent anything before. Artanis placed the crystal into one of a series of sockets on the left side of his table and sat down. The holographic image of the message sprung to life in the middle, with a small sign on the top right, indicating an attachment.

The message was a series of messages. The first one was a report sent by one of the civilian staff of a Tal'darim outpost on Tolmyr IV. _I recognise that planet. I wasn't aware that there were Tal'darim bases so close to Shakuras. But without Shakuras existing anymore, we have no claim on that area, so it makes little difference._ The report goes on to explain how a Purifier, an ex-Tal'darim, and a Dark Archon _By Adun, Nabiros, what did you do now..._ landed on the planet, asking for fuel and 'an exchange of services'. The civilian was watching the landing from her home, and she saw that the Purifier, who came out of the ship alone, said something that angered the outpost's commander, Alderan. The Purifier seemed to make an attempt at negotiation which apparently didn't work. Then suddenly, the ex-Tal'darim and the Dark Archon appeared from thin air on his sides. Within seconds, the Dark Archon grew giant wings of pure darkness, and radiated nightmares. The witness fainted, so the rest of her report comes from the rest of the outpost staff. Based on that, the team killed the commander, incapacitated his guards, destroyed the two photon cannons guarding the landing pad that were activated by a guard from inside, then entered the facility built around the Terrazine geyser. There, they performed a strange ritual that knocked out all their sensors, and somehow altered the form of the Dark Archon. Before they left the facility, they left a written message for High Lord Alarak as follows:

"To: High Lord Alarak  
From: Nabiros, Purifier phase-smith

My lord,

It is with great regret that I must inform you that I was forced to take temporary command of your outpost here on Tolmyr IV in Tal'darim fashion, due to your local commander not having enough sense not to argue with a Dark Archon, which, I'm sure, was the main reason he was placed to such a remote area. I had the great fortune to meet several Tal'darim warriors during the war with Amon, and I must say, Alderan did not meet the high standards of your proud warriors. However, they were your property, so I apologise for their loss nonetheless.

Furthermore, I must report that for an experiment - whose footage I have attached to this message - we used up approximately 30% of the geyser's Terrazine. I attempted to negotiate with Alderan for the geyser's use but unfortunately he chose to expire before a proper payment could be agreed upon. However, with a little effort I have located several pockets of Terrazine near the outpost which have not been found previously, due to - and I am deeply sorry to say - the ineptitude of the local mining staff. Either that, or some hideous person gave them sensors that were deemed old even at the time I was built and the staff had no idea how to upgrade them with the abundant resources available. I hope that the replacement Terrazine and moderately improved planetary scanner technology are sufficient payment for the damage caused and services rendered.

On a personal note, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for the chance you provided to those Tal'darim who wished to live within the Daelaam, for this experiment would not have been possible without my esteemed Tal'darim colleague. With such wise leadership, the Tal'darim could only prosper.

With great respect,  
Nabiros  
Purifier phase-smith"

Below that was the last message:

"Tell the Purifier that I find this trade agreeable, he need not worry for his life. I only wish I could see your face as you read the messages and watch the footage, but I will try my best to imagine it. I hope to hear from your vagabond Purifier again, he is remarkably amusing."

After reading the message again, in case he misread something, and watched the footage, Artanis could only sit in his chair in silence, contemplating the cruelty of fate and the possibility that he might have preferred the war instead of this peace. In wartime, madmen could blend in with the normal people in combat, but in peacetime, when they had free time and the resources to spare, they couldn't help but make trouble, it's like fate created them specifically to ruin everything when everyone else is trying to live a peaceful life. When Vorazun shared Nabiros' message from Lentoth III, after the initial shock everyone agreed that the Archon won't be a problem because it is bound to die before they could find a planet with Terrazine. Yet somehow they not only found one, but somehow managed to stabilise the Archon, which is pure insanity, especially how it's made up of not 2 but 12 Protoss. And not just any Protoss. According to the information Vorazun managed to acquire from damaged archives and ancient Nerazim, the ones sent to Lentoth III were about the same age as Raszagal but caused so much trouble that the most polite way to get rid of them was to send them to build a shrine on Lentoth III, as a memorial to the Nerazim exodus from Aiur. Those she spoke with only knew them by reputation and from stories told by their parents, so nothing more was revealed.

With the shock slowly wearing off, Artanis felt himself at a crossroads: how should he feel about this news? On one hand, there was a ship full of madmen out there who were doing Adun knows what, the consequences of which are best left uncontemplated. On the other hand, Artanis knew Nabiros to be a good man. Based on Vorazun's reports, Tekka had no criminal inclinations either, and in the footage he could see that the Archon was listening to Nabiros, so there was hope that he could steer them in the right direction.

As he leant towards despair, he thought to himself with some routine: what would Karax do? He would say that if Alarak is happy then everything is fine from a diplomatic perspective, and the experiment was apparently a stunning success, so it was fine from a scientific point of view as well. Knowing that Nabiros is a consistent and honourable person, if a touch radical, it can be safely concluded that he will not do anything that would reflect badly on the Daelaam, let alone threaten it. He then immediately imagined his own reaction to this, he even saw himself looking open to discussion but stern nonetheless, explaining to Karax that Nabiros has to be reminded that he has an obligation to keep up the good reputation of the Daelaam and by extension the Protoss as a species, especially in these sensitive post-war times. Additionally, the Dark Archon must submit itself to a jury of Templar to determine whether or not it is a threat, considering the horrible reputation of Dark Archons, especially the parts about mind control. Karax would agree that erring on the side of caution is wise, then politely ask if there is anything else to say about the matter.

"Hierarch, I thought we had a meeting scheduled to discuss city plans." Karax said, having just entered the room.

"Karax!" Artanis sprung from his seat and rushed to his friend.

"Hierarch?" the phase-smith looked back at him, puzzled.

Artanis grabbed Karax's shoulders. "Karax, I'm so happy that we have you with us! Your advice is invaluable!"

"I... I thank you, Hierarch, but... did anything happen?"

"You will not believe your eyes!" Artanis laughed. "Come, see for yourself."

The scene unfolded exactly as Artanis had predicted. He even told Karax that he came in just when he was guessing his reaction to this news and how it was a tremendous help to his state of mind. Karax said he was happy to have helped without being there, to which Artanis replied, laughing, "We need more reliable and calculable people like you, Karax, you are a blessing to people just by existing, let alone by doing your best."

After discussing the city plans and leaving the room, Karax thought to himself, _Templar are dangerously unstable people, but you can't help but love them nonetheless._


	7. Chapter 7

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.22

 **Location:** Aiur, Citadel of the Executors, Council Chambers  
 **Time:** Noon

Artanis was feeling a little awkward. Having faced and defeated the nearest thing to a god naturally boosts one's self-confidence, but to be called upon for judgement on his own people was another thing entirely.

After receiving Alarak's message, he gave the order for Nabiros' ship and crew to be taken into custody and brought to Aiur for a court hearing. He then called together the most senior Judicators, and brought them up to speed on the situation, and that he was expecting them to decide if Nabiros and his crew were guilty of anything, and if the Dark Archon could be trusted. Artanis never saw people suddenly wanting to be on the opposite side of the planet so much, but in retrospect he could understand their perspective.

It occured to him, like divine inspiration, that he could dump all that awkwardness on those that inflicted it upon him.

"Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers!" he began the semi-formal hearing in the Council Chambers, his Executors blinking their own thoughts away at the sound of his unusually severe tone. "Just barely more than two weeks ago, you were standing at that exact same spot for being a preacher of troubling ideas. Now, you stand here once again, but this time with a Tal'darim librarian and a Dark Archon of unprecedented origins and capabilities. You have attacked an outpost of the Tal'darim, who we are fortunate to have a relatively peaceful relationship with for the first time in our shared history, in order to perform an experiment that goes against every scientific, philosophical, social, and legal agreement regarding Archons and their study, resulting in an entity that even the Dark Templar deem too risky to be left alive, let alone to roam free. You are charged with theft and murder of property and personnel of a friendly state, and an extremely illegal and immoral experiment. Explain yourself."

"In his defense," Talandar spoke up. "He was waiting for us in orbit around Tolmyr IV and did not resist arrest. The Dark Archon was already in a containment chamber. He even helped to make it portable, so it could attend this court hearing. The wicked and the corrupt never willingly give themselves over to justice."

"You have no idea what Dark Archons are capable of." Vorazun said, her voice cold, her eyes darting about on the accused with absolute distrust. "They can enter a courtroom where their fate is all but decided, yet leave it cleared of all charges and with supporters to their schemes."

"This is a waste of time." Yalara, the Tal'darim Executor waved her hand dismissively. "We all read Alarak's message, he was fine with what happened, and he is certainly not the forgiving kind. Even the fleet that came to expand the outpost ignored his ship entirely. You should commend his initiative and cunning for succeeding with such a high-risk stunt. And then there's the research data. I'm no scientist, but even I can appriciate a breakthrough in Archons, especially when some more research could allow us to field whole squads of Archons who are sane and aren't torn apart by the same force that created them."

"He still commited the crimes he is charged of." Selendis said, resolute in knowing that at last the troublemaker was caught, and now there is no way for him to weasel out of punishment."No matter how much value came of it, which I am not convinced of, he still broke the law."

"We will first hear Nabiros." Artanis cut into the explosion of opinions with decisive force. He wanted to set an example for his people that laws will be observed and justice will be delivered, and he would tolerate none of the usual squabbling today. "He is the captain of his ship, he is responsible for his crew's actions, as well as his own."

Nabiros took a moment to consider what he wanted to say but then just went with what was on his mind anyway. "Hierarch, you have been straightfoward with me in the past, so it is only fair that I return the same respect to you." the Purifier stood proud, chin held up, and beamed with conviction. "I do not consider legality when I plan what to do. I am an engineer and a scientist, I care only about the natural laws of the universe. Beyond that, all I have is my own sense of right and wrong, just as you and everyone else. Laws reflect those who make them, not the world in which they are made, and thus create an unnatural system. The Tal'darim are right in the sense that the mighty will always rule over the weak, and that laws are made by the will and whim of those with the power to enforce them. However, I also believe that there are universal elements of everyone's sense of justice. I believe that no one should suffer needlessly, that everyone deserves a chance at life, to become what fate and their own free will would mold them to be. Given the choice, I chose to help a group of Nerazim scholars, who panicked when Terran pirates attacked them, and merged into a Dark Archon to defend themselves and the shrine they were sworn to protect. I chose to play by the rules of the culture whose outpost I visited for their Terrazine geyser, and by their laws and traditions I have claimed it, used it for my experiment, then returned it to their original owners, who are even now expanding said outpost to access the Terrazine pockets I found for them in return. And with that experiment, I took the opportunity to shed light on our primitive understanding of Archons, partially for the thrill of discovery, partially so that using Archons would one day not be an act of sacrifice, but a choice to be made by those who wish for such union. I say I have done nothing wrong, nor did my crew. We are loyal to the Daelaam and what it stands for. That is, if the is Daelaam still about uniting the Protoss and building a better, wiser empire than the previous one."

Yalara laughed, and with mock surprise she mimicked Nabiros. "I just gave first aid, went with local customs and came back with amazing scientific data, what's your problem?" and she kept laughing for a few moments. "I can see why Alarak likes you, you can still manage to be hilarious while doing and saying what you sincerely believe." she looked around in the silent room, with only Tekka hiding her amusement by examining the floor. Yalara waved at them dismissively. "Bah, you Templar have no sense of humour."

Artanis glared at Yalara for a second, then turned to the other Tal'darim. "We will now hear Tekka."

The librarian shrugged. "There's not much to say, Hierarch. The charges are impotent, no matter how you look at them. You yourself have taken part in Rak'shir, so I need not explain how little my people care about others' laws, and how much they appriciate those who succeed by theirs. Additionally, the charge of theft and murder happened in Tal'darim space, which is not under Daelaam jurisdiction, meaning that this court cannot legally rule regarding that charge. I know the Khalai are used to considering the entire world their domain but as the previous years have proved, it is untrue, and some expertise in diplomacy is in order. Thankfully, the charge has been cleared by the highest Tal'darim authority, so we can skip that. The charge regarding the experiment is also a farce because the laws that forbid any research and experiment of Archons were made by the Conclave, not the Daelaam. I understand that Khalai logic dictates that the Conclave's laws naturally transition to its legal successor, but that would also mean that the entire population of the Daelaam would have to be imprisoned for consorting and even allying with inferior species, namely Terrans and Zerg. Since that would make no sense, and considering how the Daelaam has yet to publish any kind of collection of active laws, unless it happened in the past 2 hours, you have no right to even charge us for Archon research. You could still go by tradition, but that's not strictly legal, and then you might as well adopt the Tal'darim laws, because you would be only enforcing your will. And before I'm called anything, I'm just explaining your legal situation based on your own laws and traditions, I have nothing to do with it."

"She speaks true, Hierarch." Talandar nodded. "I've been in constant contact with those of us with legal expertise, which is admittedly not much, but even those most stubbornly law-abiding of us agree with her general statement. While we informally declared ourselves the Daelaam, from a legal perspective we are still subjects of the Protoss Empire under martial law which has not yet been rescinded. That means that the ranking military officer is to hold court martial, and the Conclave will go through the records to check for any misjudgements, taking into consideration the war effort, resources available to the court martial, and, I quote, 'the popularity of the Executor in the Conclave'. You wouldn't believe some of the stories I'm hearing."

Selendis covered her face with her hands as she sat down on her chair, visibly exhausted. "I never would have thought that being an Executor meant listening to this much legal babbling. As much as I miss the Conclave, I can understand why Tassadar just went with whatever he thought right."

"Their greatest crime is still supporting a Dark Archon." Vorazun declared with cold certainty. "And rest assured, the Nerazim have no such legal bindings. As their Matriarch, I have every right to judge based on our traditions and common sense, both of which have clearly established that Dark Archons are banned, and any who create or support one are to be executed on the spot, no questions asked."

"Hah!" Tekka laughed briefly. "That's mighty rich coming from someone who is only alive because Dark Archons were allowed during the Templar uprising during the Brood War."

"Silence!" Vorazun roared. "Your legal drivel means nothing in this matter, Tal'darim!"

"This Dark Archon has done nothing to earn your hatred!" Tekka shouted back, surprising even herself. "I've seen their souls, I know their hearts, and the only reason they stand here today is because of their undying loyalty to your mother! They would have dispersed after killing the Terran pirates, but they held onto life, despite agony none of will ever comprehend, that someone will come, that someone will tell Raszagal to send new guardians to the shrine because they're as good as dead! If you do not cease your hateful speech, I will personally send you to your dead mother to ask her how she left twelve old scholars marooned on a dead planet for over three centuries!"

Tekka spun around to see the Dark Archon somehow standing behind her, with its black hand on her shoulder, its eyes glowing with appriciation and profound sadness. " **That is enough.** "

Psi blades cracked to life, as the Executors readied to battle the Archon who casually blinked out of its containment chamber, looking to Artanis to say the word. Artanis was very, very much displeased with how the hearing went so far, but he wouldn't bend: either justice will be done, or he will step down. "We will now hear the Dark Archon. That is an order."

Only the sound of the humming blades could be heared for a while, as the Executors weighed their options and their consequences. Looking at the Dark Archon uneasily, each deactivated their blades but stood ready to attack on a moment's notice.

The Archon looked around with a pained gaze at the fear and hatred its mere existence provoked. It stepped forward, like a guilty to its executioner, and knelt on the floor, as much as a floating entity could, its heads hung is a mix of shame and grief. It didn't look like a fearsome Dark Archon, more like the ghosts of ancestors, stuck in one old, ragged robe, trying to explain their failings to the generation that had to pick up the pieces of the mess they left behind. " **We understand the Matriarch's... concerns.** " a soft bass voice rumbled across the room, which seemed odd coming from someone with a warped cannon for a left forearm. " **We too, would say the same thing in her place. It is kind of Tekka to speak for us with such passion, it really warmed our hearts, but for all the stories we Nerazim tell about Dark Archons, none of them can express the horror they inflicted upon our people. We are old enough to have seen some of those stories unfold before our own eyes, and we believe it is good that the stories are so limited in their descriptive abilities. The stories are known, they can be read in the archives and heard from our elderly. We will not speak of them.** " the Archon looked up at Artanis. " **We are old, Hierarch. We do not fear death. We wished for it more times than we can remember, but duty forbade us to embrace the Void. Our deepest desire to be freed from our solitude on that planet, or from the torment that was our existence not long ago, is a flickering candle compared to our obligation to see the previous Matriarch's wishes fulfilled. While we deeply appriciate Nabiros' and Tekka's efforts to make our life as an Archon better, which I must say they thoroughly succeeded at, we see our duty fulfilled. We have no obligations left. We are ready to die at any moment, Hierarch. However, if allowed, we would speak to the current Matriarch. We understand if she would rather not."**

Artanis looked to Vorazun, who seemed fortified in her decision. Seeing that she was granted the right to deal with the Archon as she saw fit, she walked to the Dark Archon, activated the double-bladed scythe, and held its shimmering blade to its three throats. "You were Nerazim once, that much I can acknowledge, so it is only fair that you die by the hand of the one who condemned you to death. Speak your piece, but be warned, the moment I even suspect you meddling with our minds, I will cut your heads off."

The Archon's heads nodded in unison, then slowly looked up at her. It didn't speak for a while, only looked into her eyes, and for a moment it looked proud. " **Justice need not be unkindly dealt. We are glad that you have the passion and the wisdom necessary to become a good Matriarch. You are the second to bear this title, but we see now that we need not have worried. The heavy mantle of leadership suits you, and you will do right by our people.** " the Archons hesitated, as if unsure to say anymore, but death's doorstep has a way of igniting unspoken words. " **We have heared that you are... at odds, with your mother's legacy. It is understandable, the children of great people always struggle to forge their own reputation, not wanting to be defined by their predecessor. We don't know if she changed in our absence, but we know Raszagal. She was our sister, not by blood but by choice. She was the 13th of our dozen, as we used to say... but as the decades passed after settling on Shakuras, we grew apart. We were anarchists, we wanted our people to embrace their passions, to live and to let live, but free to the end. She was more social than us - and wiser, but at the time we didn't see it that way. She was like a mother to the lost children that were the Nerazim, and for all the tough talk from the young ones, they all loved to have a home to return to, then settle down as they grew too old. The weight of responsibility drew out the best of her: a detached but still aware serenity, and a compassionate stoicism. Back then we saw it as her growing too old and grumpy to enjoy her own life, so we had our little private war. She understood what it was all about and tried explaining it to us but we... we wouldn't listen. Eventually, we crossed a line, but we were unaware of that at that time. In retrospect, she already had a contingency plan for exactly this situation. Being scholars with a burning desire to educate the younger generations, it was easy to bait us into building a shrine on Lentoth III. And then we... our ship left us there, without a word, without leaving an observer behind to help relay messages back home.** " the Archon was struggling for words, the memory becoming too vivid. " **At first, we laughed it off. We thought it was one of her punishments again. As the years passed without so much as debris in orbit, we grew furious. After few months of calming down, we put the pieces together, and realised our mistake. We... we cannot describe the years we spent mourning the life that we had but threw away in arrogance. We wish we could say we were bored but... guilt has a way of pushing you to redeem yourself, in any way you can.** " the Archon looked down, partially immersed in memory, partially unable to continue.

"What's your point?" Vorazun asked, completely untouched.

The Archon looked back up. " **Please, do not be angry with your mother.** " the Archon said, pleading. " **We deserve your hatred, but not her. She loved you with all her heart. She worked and fought not only for her people, but for you to be able to choose your own fate. She..."**

"You have never met my mother." Vorazun barked at the Archon angrily. "How can you claim to know how she felt?"

" **While you were busy being furious, we read your memories of her. All of them.** " the Archon seemed to have shrugged, like a kleptomaniac when asked where he got that key.

"You wretch...!" she screamed and tried to lift her scythe to strike the Archon down but couldn't even move a muscle. "What... what is happening?!"

The Archon rose to its feet, shaking its heads, chuckling. " **There was a reason Dark Archons were never allowed a trial, Matriarch.** " the Archon chuckled and gestured around the room. " **As you can see, everyone is paralyzed by now. You really should have listened to your own advice.** "

"You... scheming... lying... abomination." Vorazun found that the paralysis left only a tiny fraction of her mental abilities working properly, speech was fortunately one of them, though probably deliberately.

The Archon walked around the room, like a visitor in a museum full of statues. " **Scheming? Yes. Abomination? Subjective. Lying? Absolutely not.** " the Archon returned to stand before her, leaning forward slightly. " **Everything we have said is true. We meant every single word. We were speaking of our hearts, like all Nerazim should. Your mother created a civilisation out of refugees, yet all you can think about is that she was strict. Let us tell you, young lady, that we were banished for being much, much worse." the Archon laughed with glee. "Were you not told? Have we been forgotten? Yes, that must be so, otherwise you would recognise this as a lesson, and not a trap. Allow us to demonstrate.** " the Archon bowed with a flourish, and lifted her scythe's blade to her throat. " **See, our lessons were harsh and practical. We liked it when our students appriciated the full gravity of the given situation. In this case, this is a lesson on Dark Archons.** " the Archon leant close to her, almost into her face. " **If you know that there is a Dark Archon out there who does not have your absolute trust, there is no such thing as too brutal a response, and even then you should check the nearby solar systems, just to be sure. If you really wanted us dead, you should have sent a fleet to turn us and our ship into tiny, harmless little atoms. As you are now, we could do anything to you, but more importantly, make you do, and even believe whatever we want you to. You would fly into a sun or pretend you were an animal the second we wished it so.** " the Archon examined her expression for a moment. " **What you are experiencing is the same fear those people felt who survived a Dark Archon. So be thankful, the victims had it much worse. So, the next time you want to imprison a Dark Archon, put them in triple stasis with teleportation nullifiers, and enough explosives to turn a planet into sand, because anything less than that is being careless.** " the Archon returned to the place where it knelt, knelt down, and repositioned Vorazun's scythe to its throats. " **Lesson is over. You may proceed with my execution.** _We will not die without having explained what you were doing wrong._ Yes, it would have been out of character to do otherwise."

The second the paralyzing field vanished, Artanis stood before the Archon as well, blade held to its face. "It was like being possessed by Amon again. I do not appriciate the reminder."

Yalara sat down into her chair, thinking. "How did you they do it?"

" **It isn't hard when you are twelve powerful psykers shoved into a lens that multiplies your power tenfold.** I think she meant it in comparison to Amon. **Oh.** _It's simple. We are here, very close to you. Amon needed the Khala to possess the Khalai. It could have possessed you when you fought him in the Void, but that Kerrigan-thing must have protected you._ Or it didn't occur to him. Happens more often than you know. Like now, for instance. **Silence, you two. We are about to be executed, we have aggravated them enough.** "

Somewhere deep inside Artanis, something snapped, and he laughed out loud. Everyone in the room looked at him like he went mad, even the Archon. After a few seconds Artanis looked down at the Archon, blades withdrawn. "You're not getting away that easily."

The six eyes of the Archon blinked in unison and confusion. " **What?** "

"My Executors, hear me." Artanis gently pushed Vorazun away from the Archon. "After defeating Amon, we have grown complacent. Anything smaller than him is no longer a threat to us. But here is our reminder." he looked down at the kneeling Archon. "They are the greatest threat we could face besides a war with one of the factions out there. They could have killed us where we stood and worse, but instead they chose to surrender themselves to our judgement. How could we not use such a powerful, loyal ally?"

"I don't like where you're going with this, Artanis." Vorazun growled.

"Then kill them." Artanis gestured invitingly towards the Archon. "Go ahead. If you can kill a loyal subject."

"This is exactly the game they're playing!" Vorazun retorted.

"If they are then I want them on my side, because they are very good at it." Artanis chuckled.

"They are extremely dangerous! You cannot trust them!" Vorazun shouted back.

"I was told the same thing about the Nerazim, the Purifiers, and the Tal'darim." Artanis said, his voice suddenly very serious. "Look around you now. We are the Daelaam now."

"A handpicked collection of extremely dangerous and untrustworthy people?" Tekka muttered in a low voice, standing next to Yalara. "It feels like home already." the two Tal'darim ladies giggled quietly.

The inner conflict in Vorazun's eyes were visible to the outside world. Her upbringing told her to execute the Archon before it changes its mind. Her logic and faith told her to trust in Artanis' judgement, he had a solid record in picking allies. Her gut feeling told her that whichever choice she makes, she will regret it later, so in truth her choice is between flavours of regret. Her survival instinct urged her to end this threat to her life before the opportunity slips away. Her Nerazim blood told her to let it live, the other choice is boring, watching an Archon living its life would be incomparably more interesting. Better to read reports about that than the arbitrations on any day.

And with that, she made her decision.


	8. Chapter 8

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.24

 **Location:** Tarrin V  
 **Time:** Afternoon

"I still think the Council went too far." Nabiros muttered angrily from the pilot's seat.

"Get over it already." Tekka groaned. "There is no use in complaining."

"There is a difference between punishment and torture."

"You're still alive, be thankful, it could have gone worse."

"Death seems preferable in comparison."

"You're overreacting. Severely. It's not even funny."

" **We agree. The raw boredom flowing out from you is enough to put us into a self-induced coma.** " the Archon grumbled from the rear end of the small bridge.

"You have no right to talk, Archon." Nabiros retorted. "It's all your fault."

" **Stop blaming us for your own poor judgement.** "

"Enough of your spineless drivel." Tekka cut in. "We have arrived."

Tarrin V was a rather large planet, seemingly made of nothing but red rock and sand. However, it also had large deposits of Vespene, making it much more appealing than at first glance. Unfortunately for the crew of the Explorer, Tarrin V was in Terran space close to Daelaam territory, with a small Terran colony, and to their immense discomfort they were there to provide assistance.

You see, the hearing in the Executor Council ended with mixed results for both parties involved. Vorazun decreed that the Dark Archon owes its allegiance to the Daelaam, and any misbehaviour would be harshly punished (which heavily implied execution, or worse, imprisonment in stasis with a Terran entertainment device called a "TV" with Terran programs going non-stop for years). Artanis sentenced the Explorer's crew to community service, which meant going to Terran space and being helpful. Artanis specifically said that "When I hear of you from Emperor Valerian, I want to listen to him thanking me for the good help I have sent him, and how amazingly helpful my agents have been. Anything less than that and you might as well drive your ship into the sun with all of you on it."

Observers were always a discreet method of keeping an eye on one's neighbours, so there was plenty of information to sift through. The Terran Dominion was in shambles, much like every other faction left standing in the Koprulu sector. They just barely got their government back on track, and all resources were diverted to rebuilding and safeguarding what little they had left. Consequently, every colony and outpost outside of the core worlds had to fend for themselves until the Dominion's to-do list had nothing else above them. This provided a convenient circumstance for the Daelaam to win some favour among the Terrans, the long term goal being a permanent alliance between the two states. Artanis, being an optimist as ever, remembered the utter defeat the UED suffered in the Koprulu sector, and it only made sense that they could easily use their current weakness to their advantage. It was hard to put up a good argument against against the Hierarch; between the Terrans, the Zerg, and the Tal'darim, the Terrans seemed the easiest to get along with, and based on previous encounters, they were the most likely to be interested.

As Nabiros, Tekka, and the Archon went through the vast amount of information available, they saw that most outposts and colonies could survive on their own. Sure, life won't be pleasant for them, but they were in no real danger. However, with the Dominion fleets withdrawn to the core worlds, pirates had plenty of easy pickings on the fringe worlds. They noticed that extortions and raids were common in only one particular area, while scarce in the rest of Terran space. This lead them to believe that there must be a hidden base there. With Artanis' blessing, they went to hunt for pirates. The Archon was way too enthusiastic about it.

Nabiros and the Archon were of the opinion that making an example out of the pirates is the best way to go, although Nabiros was in favour of efficient extermination, while the Archon's plans involved a lot of gruesome things that are best left unsaid. Tekka fortunately managed to gain their support for an entirely non-lethal plan, which involved capturing the pirates and confiscating everything they had, then turning it all over to the Terrans. That way they would have resources and justice at the very least, and if they are so inclined they could use the pirates as slave labour. This way, they restore security and help them rebuild at the same time. Nabiros was quick to agree, while the Archon grumbled for a while about how the younger generation has no concept of fun. After Tekka pointed out that for someone who suffered from Dark Archons in the past they are surprisingly fond of inflicting the same and worse on others, the Archon, quite ashamed of itself, gave in and refused to come out of its containment chamber in Secondary Storage for an entire day.

"Engaging stealth, entering orbit." Nabiros' voice switched to professional in a split second.

The colony was located in a valley in one of the planet's mountain ranges to be safe from the sand storms that ran across the planet's surface like confused zerglings but with a much worse bite. The planet had no atmosphere, so the colony's habitation domes looked like a handful of berries from above. It had an unusually large landing pad for a small colony, probably for the cargo haulers that used to visit it before Amon happened. The landing pad was quite simply a large slab of reinforced steel with a small control tower and without a dome, allowing easy landing. The Explorer landed on a small plateau just a kilometre from the valley.

"We arrived a few hours early, we should have enough time to set up the trap we planned." Tekka said as she checked and re-checked the pirates' arrival pattern. She was a little disappointed that they were not allowed any kind of access to the observer in orbit but she understood the value of not getting used to advantages you cannot create for yourself.

"More than enough." Nabiros chuckled. "Releasing scarab swarm."

With all involved being invisible, normally it would be hard to visually describe what happened, but the observer saw everything, clear as day. The ramp of the Explorer opened just a little, and from it poured out a small swarm of silent and tiny scarabs, towards the landing pad. There weren't too numerous, just a couple dozen, but their coordinated flight formation was an aesthetically pleasing sight if you zoomed in close enough. They spread out across the edges of the landing bay and on the road leading to the colony proper. Once there, they landed and waited for further orders.

The idea to use scarabs was, of course, Nabiros' idea. He had two sources of inspiration: scourges and swarm hosts. Going back in time quite a bit, the Reaver was a revered mining instrument that found itself on the front lines of the first war against the Zerg after a little tinkering. Seeing a perfectly good idea so badly executed, Nabiros decided to improve on the original design with scourges and swarm hosts in mind. The scarabs themselves were greatly improved, their base design allowing for a wide variety of variants, like the tazer-stealth version which they were using now, or the high explosive and the incendiary ones that Nabiros had a special love for. They could be remote controlled or left with a basic set of instructions, depending on what was necessary. The actual invention here was the uncreatively but still correctly named scarab host. It looked like a probe the size of zergling, except it had a small scarab factory inside it in place of the usual probe equipment, with a launch bay in the front end. The scarab host, like its conceptual forebearer, would burrow underground using small gravity distortion fields to mimic the Zerg technique of almost swimming through the ground. Then, it would use up its finite amount of available scarabs (30). Once depleted, it would return to base, plug itself into the nearest forge, and borrowing some of its power and processed minerals, it would reconstruct its scarabs in half an hour, without obstructing the forge's current workflow. Nabiros also designed a variant with an extended scarab storage in place of the mini-factory, which would double the scarab host's capacity, but Nabiros was in favour of the former, considering their limited facilities. When Tekka jokingly suggested that his invention will rarely see use outside small scale operations, Nabiros asked her to imagine Carriers using modified scarabs in place of interceptors. He went on to explain how much easier it would be to make a Terran-sized scarab with high speed and a mean payload than all that fuss with an interceptor that needs engines, shields, armour plating, weapons, piloting subsystems, and so on. Carriers would need to carry such a load of minerals that after the redesign they could be used as cargo haulers in peace time, while in wartime they would vomit explosive death on anything that looks remotely impolitely at the Protoss. Even the Archon looked at him like he was insane, of the irresponsibly mass-destructive flavour.

After one and a half hour of agonising waiting, the pirate ship appeared. Nabiros noticed with disgust that it was an old dropship, he could even make out the badly removed Confederate markings, although only with his enhanced vision. Still, he was fairly certain that he could find the serial numbers on that ship if he looked close enough, and given the proper registry, he could find out where these animals stole it from. The ship seemed well maintained regardless, Nabiros guessed it could probably take a few shots from a photon cannon before something inside finally gave up on life.

" **That... that looks like a slab of hollow metal with engines slapped on, and don't even get us started on the aesthetics.** " the Archon voice came from above Nabiros as it looked on the view screens, making the Purifier jump a little with surprise.

"It's an old design, even by Terran standards." Nabiros replied almost apologetically. "They improved on it since."

"You should see their battlecruisers." Tekka mentioned casually. "They have a charming simplicity to them, and their main cannons are fairly impressive."

"That what's it called... Yamato cannon?" Nabiros asked, and Tekka nodded. "That's a little brutish for my taste but its usefulness is undisputed. On an unrelated note, the pirates are disembarking."

All eyes jumped back on the view screens, where the pirates could indeed be seen leaving their ship. They were greeted unenthusiastically by a group of suspiciously thin and tired-looking colonists in worn environmental suits. The some of the pirates were pushing large barrels on wheels - obviously, the colonists were paying with raw vespene in exchange for their lives. There was also some bashing and kicking involved, so it was obviously not a friendly trade.

"We have seen enough." Nabiros growled. "I'm sending in the scarabs."

" **We agree.** " the Archon seemed less than pleased. It turned to Tekka. " **Are you ready?** "

"Just wait until after the scarabs electrocute them, I don't want to be near flailing Terrans." Tekka remarked with mild disgust.

On the view screens, the pirates could be seen convulsing for a few moments and collapsing on the ground, presumably unconscious. Some of the scarabs flew inside the ship and rendered the remaining crew of the ship unconscious. The colonists looked around in confusion and alarm, especially when a tall Protoss in plain grey robes and suspicious gauntlets appeared among the fallen pirates with a whiff of ethereal smoke.

"Be at peace, Terrans, we have come to help you." Tekka said, pretending that she had to help an angry ascendant find something in the archives.

"Protoss!" five of the six colonists screamed and huddled behind the most cynical person Tekka had ever seen. She couldn't tell exactly, but apparently it was a female, and probably the colony leader.

"I just thought this day couldn't be any worse." the Terran woman said in a raspy voice. "I should have known better. What do you want?"

"My colleagues and I are here to rid you of your pirate problem." Tekka said bluntly. "Yours and everyone elses."

The Terran made a weird noise, which probably meant disapproval. "Yeah, sure. At what price?"

Tekka felt her greed's strings being pulled, and her common sense told her that the Terran would be less suspicious of them if she asked for a price, so she improvised. "We would like to take a look at your data archives, no questions asked, and some vespene would be nice as well so we could refuel."

The woman looked at her like she was an idiot. "This is raw vespene, darlin', we don't have a refinery here."

"Let me worry about that." Tekka waved dismissively. "Now, how would you like to deal with these pirates? They are not dead, only unconscious." _I think. I hope._ she added quietly in thought.

The Terran's eyes widened in surprise at first but quickly narrowed back in suspicion. "You're really askin' me?"

"Yes." Tekka shrugged. "We thought you might want to execute them yourselves, or use them as slave labour, or just let them starve to death in the wastes. I can't say we have any love for pirates either." Tekka thought that for a moment she could hear the Archon growl 'that is a massive understatement' even at this distance.

A cruel grin, visible even through the environmental suit's helmet, spread across the woman's face for a moment, but it quickly fell back into face that accepted displeasure as a fact of life. "As much as I wish I could crush the balls of these *unknown Terran word* and throw them into a blunt bladed blender, I don't have the right, and I will lose my job if I breach my contract, so you'll have to put them somewhere until a proper Dominion sheriff or something can come and deal with these *unknown Terran word*. Will that be fine with you, darlin'?"

"Then we have a bargain." Tekka nodded. "We will return to collect when we have delivered our end of the deal." Tekka almost asked the Archon to teleport her back but there was something that was bothering her. "I am no expert on Terran phisiology but I am fairly certain that you are not supposed to be this thin."

The woman's face turned sad. "Yeah, we used to have more meat on our bones. That was before these *unknown Terran word* came. Since then, we had to work our *unknown Terran word* off to meet their quotas."

"But you have enough sustenance?" Tekka asked, not noticing her worried tone.

"You mean food?" the woman asked, unsure. "Yeah, the pirates supply us with food and water. That's how they made sure we behaved."

Having no understanding of famine as a Protoss, Tekka was at once confused and infuriated. "You should have said so earlier. Wait here." and she vanished.

A few minutes later several whiffs of smoke appeared, revealing Tekka, Nabiros, and two probes. Tekka stepped to the colony leader. "We will help you get your food and water inside. Come, you can most likely recognise the containers that you need." as they talked, two more probes puffed into existence. Tekka almost laughed when she saw the probes lining up in a two-by-two formation behind Nabiros, who was waiting for them.

The woman needed a moment to process what was happening, so the auto-pilot took control for a while. "Argh, where are my manners. I'm Josie Connor, mayor of this colony." she instinctively put her hand forward for a handshake.

Wasting only a one moment in confusion, Tekka remembered the Terran custom and gently but firmly shook Josie's hand. "I am Tekka, and that is my captain and colleague, Nabiros."

"That explains all that armour. I thought you Protoss were into ornamental instead of actually useful armour." Josie said bluntly, noticing all too late what she said.

Tekka laughed. "He shares that sentiment, hence all that armour, as you said." she didn't want to explain Purifiers to the poor malnourished Terran, and to her surprise she felt a little guilty for misleading this poor creature.

What followed was a quick looting of the ship's cargo. Within minutes, more colonists appeared to help with the hauling, who were happy to be rid of the pirates at long last. Needless to say, the pirates themselves were hauled back on the ship with little grace, and only Nabiros' sense of ordered storage stopped the colonists to putting them in one big pile in the middle of the cargo bay. They were neatly lined up on the floor instead, which amused the colonists even more, apparently because they are now lined up like corpses, and they took that as a good omen. Nabiros let Tekka do the talking, he just catalogued, examined, and helped with the occasional heavy lifting off the ship. They were done in an hour.

"I'm sorry for not saying it sooner, but..." Josie said awkwardly to Tekka. "Thank you. Life's been *unknown Terran word* here 'till now, but now that we can sleep and eat properly, things should get back on track."

Tekka found herself bowing a little in acceptance. "We are happy to help if can, when we can. Farewell, Josie Connor."

"Bye, Tekka. See you around!"

Tekka and Nabiros stood onboard the pirate ship, its ramp lifted. Nabiros looked at her, and even though he had little in the way of facial expressions, she knew he wanted to ask a question he didn't know how to phrase politely.

"This felt good." she said happily. "You have no idea how refreshing it is not to torture and kill and scheme and dash and hide for once."

"That was an... oddly specific list." Nabiros noted. "But yes, it did feel like the right thing to do. I'm still trying to convince myself not to let the Archon loose on their base. These pirates took these people hostage with basic sustenance. I can only hope the Terrans will punish the pirates... severely."

"I don't need the Khala to know exactly how you feel." she nodded in agreement.

"Back on topic: how do we find their base, and how do we get there?" Nabiros asked.

"I have it all figured out." Tekka stepped to one of the pirates. "Fortunately, I asked which one the captain was and I'm fairly certain that the thing in the pilot's seat is the one who knows how to fly this thing. We can go to their base with their own ship and they will not realise until it is too late. All we need to do..."

In a puff of smoke, the Archon appeared. " **You wished for us?** "

"Are you in my mind?" she asked a little angrily.

" **No, we were eavesdropping.** " the Archon looked as innocent as a huge otherworldly creature of immense psionic power could possibly look.

Tekka chuckled. "You Nerazim have a way of being Tal'darim sometimes."

" **We will take that as a compliment. What is our next step?** "

"I already have a plan that I think you will all like." Tekka laughed menacingly, and once she finished, the Archon and Nabiros were reminded that despite leaving her people, Tekka was still a Tal'darim at heart.


	9. Chapter 9

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.24

 **Location:** Naldor III, supposedly abandoned orbital platform  
 **Time:** 3 hours after the pirate ship landed on Tarrin V

"This is bone-chilling, and I don't even have any." Nabiros said quietly, at once glad and sorry that he has next to no facial expressions with his helmet-for-a-head.

"It really is... unsettling to watch." Tekka whispered, was much less disturbed than Nabiros but still no uneffected.

" **We told you how no story can describe how horrible Dark Archons are."** the Archon shrugged innocently. **"We are glad we could provide a demonstration, though we would like to remind you that this was not our idea, as troubling as that may be in retrospect.** "

The ship appeared... haunted, for the lack of a better word. Its crew were sitting in their seats that were normally reserved for soldiers in marine armour, chatting casually. The pilot was chatting with the control tower of the pirate base. Everything seemed normal. The pirates laughed about how they kicked the mayor and how long it took to haul things in and out. One of them even mentioned that the current batch of vespene looked higher quality than usual, so maybe they were in for a bonus, and they immediately started planning how will they spend their juicy bonus. The pilot must heard the discussion and relayed it to his friend in the control tower.

All the while the three Protoss were standing quietly in the far corner of the completely empty cargo bay.

"I'm not sure if I really want to know, but... how can you do it to so many?" Tekka asked, her hunger for knowledge overruling her instinctive fear of such a casual display of power.

" **With age, comes wisdom.** " the Archon said mysteriously, then seeing how Tekka was expecting it to continue, it explained it like it's nothing. " **False information is like a parasite in the mind, it disrupts proper functions merely by being there, usually by conflicting sensory input or previous knowledge. Protoss minds are more sensitive and can sense and purge them easily. If they were Protoss it would have been easier to simply take control of their minds than to keep up this charade. However, Terrans have yet to evolve into a psionically relevant species, so we need only give them the false facts and they run with it happily. We are not even concentrating to maintain anything, but we do keep watch, to be sure.** "

"Why would it be easier to take control of minds rather than keeping up an illusion?" Nabiros asked. "The former seems to be the greater effort."

" **Good question, to which the answer is yes and no.** " the Archon visibly enjoyed playing teacher. " **To the uneducated, which in this rare case is a good thing, mind control seems like a contest of wills. It could be done that way too but it is a needless effort. However, will stems from belief, which is rooted in knowledge and understanding. Therefore, to efficiently control a mind, you need only drive a single point so deeply in the target's mind that it becomes an unquestionable fact of life for them, which, in this case, is that you are the best person in the world, and following your every whim and order is both their deepest desire and in their best interest. After that they will remain who they are, except they will do your bidding as naturaly as they would if they actually believed what you engraved in their mind.** "

"Chilling." Nabiros instinctively put his arms around himself, as if his machine body could fight the cold feeling crawling up his metaphorical but no less real spine.

"Why are Templar Archons and Dark Archons so different?" Tekka asked, thoroughly immersed in their conversation. "I don't want to blame everything on the obvious differences between using pure psionics and void energies."

" **A good attitude, but we doubt we have to point out that besides the different sources of power, there is the difference in personality.** "

"What do you mean by that?" Tekka asked, unsure. "People will always be people, and while cultural differences exist, base motives will remain the same."

" **Philosophically, we agree, but in this specific instance we disagree.** " the Archon's joy was palpable, as it bathed in the pleasure of having an intelligent student after centuries of solitude. " **You see, we Nerazim hold freedom and individuality in the highest regard, they are sacred to us. But when two Dark Templar are told to merge into an Archon, they might understand the need of the many, but deep down they will resent it. When they become a Dark Archon, there will be two resentful people in one place, which is then amplified tenfold by their new form, so it makes perfect sense that they will have an innate preference, and thus aptitude, for abilities that rob people of their free will, confuse them, and kill them, of course, because half the fun in being an Archon is being an unstoppable engine of destruction. At least that is how most Dark Archons we have met felt before the orbital bombardment vaporised them.** "

"And the Khalai?" Tekka asked, not letting the Archon get away with just half an answer.

The Archon looked at her like she was supposed to know. " **The Templar are in a perpetual state of disgust of inferiority, which means everyone who isn't a Templar or a Judicator. When they merge into an Archon, they just become really, really upset.** "

Tekka laughed as quietly as she could for a good while. "That sounded somewhat biased but I understand what you mean."

The Archon chuckled. **"This is why the Khala was such a bad idea. With easy access to each others' thoughts and emotions you don't learn how to communicate with those outside.** "

"I would set you on fire for what you just said." Nabiros said in an oddly casual voice. "If not for being absolutely correct and the entire reason of our mission."

"Learning to communicate via mind control?" Tekka asked with mock surprise. "Were I not certain of the contrary, I would think you a Tal'darim!" she laughed.

" **Quiet. We are in range to the pirate commander. Stay perfectly still, this will require our full attention.** " the Archon closed its eyes, leaving its hoods seemingly empty, save for the unearthly darkness that always inhabited it.

The ship prepared to land, and the crew were anxious to leave but knew better than to leave their seats. After a bumpy landing, the pilot told them that the commander wants to hold a special welcoming celebration for the crew of the ship that brought extra high quality vespene. The crew cheered, and rushed to line up at the ramp, avoiding the huge vespene barrels. There were a few pirates waiting for them, who happily lead their friends to the planned celebration in the mess hall. Within seconds, the three-or-fourteen Protoss were alone in the empty ship in an empty landing bay.

"Time to get going." Tekka said and shoved a shocked Nabiros into moving. The Purifier shook its head and jogged with them, its heavy footfalls banging loudly against the metal floor. The Archon floated silently behind them like a ghost, who would have been offended if it knew that this comparison could potentially refer to Terrans pretending to be Nerazim assassins.

Despite the ridiculous powers of the Dark Archon, they had to hurry. It will take a few minutes for everyone to gather in the mess hall, but once all of the pirates are there it was only a matter of time before the false information was expelled from their minds - just as the Archon explained it would.

" **Control center found. We lead the way.** " the Archon rumbled, apparently busy with something. It lead them through a few flights of stairs (Tekka floated up and the Archon just threw Nabiros up like a ragdoll then teleported up to catch him) and several blast doors (they were quickly cut through by the Archon's cannon, which apparently had a beam mode as well) until they reached the control center, which was just as empty as the rest of the facility they rushed through. The Archon blinked to one of the consoles, pressed a few buttons, then visibly relaxed.

" **That was closer than we would like to admit.** " the Archon muttered, its voice sounding weaker than usual. " **This was harder than we thought.** _We are painfully out of practice._ It is embarrassing. This new form has made us complacent. We must train, like in the old days. _Harder than that. If we can't reach our full potential we will embarrass ourselves retroactively to all our students._ And all the people we bragged to about our superior teaching methods. **This is a matter of honour now.** "

Nabiros had a new appriciation for the Archon. Not only did it keep the Terrans behaving according to plan, but it also stole the facility layout from several minds to be sure, then searched for and found the technicians who worked in the control center and stole their understanding of the terminals, while finding the optimal path towards the specific terminal and then leading them to it, and occasionally using its powers to speed the way. On top of that, it feels embarrassed that all this wasn't as easy as igniting a psi blade, and resolved to train until it became not only as easy, but easier than that. Protoss were known for excelling in their chosen field of expertise but this kind of zeal was truly remarkable. Nabiros resolved to follow the Archon's example in seeking ways to improve himself.

Tekka moved close to the Archon. "You are tired, you need rest. Show me how to use to communication terminal."

The Archon looked at her, juggling pride and responsibility, but exhaustion has a way of convincing you to sit down and stop doing things. " **We appriciate the assistance.** " the Archon reached out to Tekka with its black hand, which she touched with her own right hand. A torrent of information rushed her mind, making her dizzy. " **We apologise for the lack of finesse. We were indeed reborn in this new form, but we forgot to consider that it also meant that we are not even a month old.** _It feels exciting to experience growing up again but from a much more experienced perspective._ And humbling. **We can always use a humbling experience every now and then. Isn't that what we taught?** Precisely."

By the time the Archon finished talking to itself, Tekka managed to sort out the information in her head, and walked to the communications terminal. Nabiros quietly observed as she tried to find a direct link through the damaged Terran satellite network to the nearest Dominion authority, which unfortunately meant the nearest core world. It took a while and even some kicking (she had no idea why the technician thought that helped, or why the obvious damage wasn't fixed) but she finally managed to send a text message to a patrolling battlecruiser.

***Terran Battlecruiser, the location this message is being sent from was a pirate base until several minutes ago. The pirates are unarmed and in our custody. We are low on food and require immediate relief. The area is secure.***

"How do you know that this base is low on food?" Nabiros asked.

"I don't." Tekka shrugged. "But Josie and her people are, and who knows how many colonies are tied together in a web of interdependency through these pirates. I'm no Judicator, I'm not trained at colony maintenance, logistics, and management. As much as I would like to help, I'm fairly certain I'm unable to."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Nabiros said reassuringly. "Oftentimes talent is found in the heat of a high value challenge."

"Is that from personal experience?" she asked with a laugh.

"They responded."

-Identify yourself.-

"Well that's an awkward request, as reasonable as it is." Nabiros said, trying to think of something. Tekka looked at the screen for a long moment before she typed her answer.

***Volunteer Protoss social workers.***

"That... is surprisingly accurate." Nabiros nodded slowly.

"I'm actually a bit embarrassed to have told them that in retrospect." she said uncomfortably. "It might be the best description but it's hardly reassuring or... But then again, nothing about this situation is."

"Protoss solving Terran domestic problems out of kindness is unprecendented, yes." Nabiros tried to put it in a more positive light.

"Nabiros, you're not being honest with yourself." Tekka glared at her. "And I don't have the patience to explain to you just how awkward this whole situation is for all parties involved."

"New message."

-Do not leave the station. ETA of relief fleet 3 hours.-

"Thank the gods!" Tekka sighed with relief.

***Thank you, much appriciated.***

Tekka collapsed on the small chair as the stress of the conversation left her body an exhausted mess. Nabiros wasn't too happy that he had to guard tired killing machines but he noted that it could have been worse. His mind immediately jumped to the next conundrum: how best to spend those 3 hours?


	10. Chapter 10

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.24

 **Location:** Naldor III, supposedly abandoned orbital platform  
 **Time:** a little over 3 hours after the pirate ship landed on Tarrin V

" **Nabiros**." the Archon said quietly.

"Yes?"

" **There is a button we would like you to press. Could you do that for us?** "

"Naturally, just point me in the right direction." after a minute of navigation, pressed a button on one of the terminals. "I can see the environmental information of the facility."

" **Good.** " the Archon stopped for a moment, its black hand clutching the middle head, as if in pain. " **Select the room the animals are in, the Terran ones. Then, lower the oxygen level, very, very slowly.** "

"Why?"

" **These pirates are throwing over a dozen kinds of tantrums, and we can't rest while they are awake**." the Archon growled with annoyance. " **If we manage the oxygen level in there correctly, then we can put them to sleep, so we can have some peace and quiet.** "

Nabiros thought about it for a second, then nodded. "That's a reasonable request. Let's do it."

It took them a good ten minutes to ensure that the Terran aren't awake or dead, as much as everyone in the room would have personally preferred the latter. While their cultures might be wildly different, they all punished piracy with death. Protoss were a very communal people, they took any kind of betrayal very seriously.

" **Aaah, much better.** " the Archon sat down into a dark corner to rest. " **We doubt that our company will be pleasing for a while, so we have something for you to pass the time. There are two minds we can sense not far from here, prisoners most likely. Tekka will lead you to them.** "

"I want some peace and quiet as well, he can go alone." Tekka growled from another dark corner, giving Nabiros the impression he was talking to an empty room. A faintly glowing red holographic interface flashed to life, fingers clad in silvery metal dancing on it briefly, then it disappeared. "I set up a series of waypoints that will guide you there and back. Good night."

"Good night." and with that, Nabiros left the room to follow the waypoints. He was glad that the Terran relief force will arrive in only 3 hours, partially so his companions can rest, partially so they don't have to waste their time here too long.

The waypoints lead him straight to the prison, which involved some stairwells as well. Nabiros wondered if he could jump down but then decided against it; he was quite heavy, the drop wasn't short, and he didn't trust Terran architecture to not to fail him. Besides, he wasn't in any hurry, so he took his time going down the stairs as the designer intended. Nabiros had to admit, the station looked bad, even by Terran standards. It seemed that the pirates weren't interested in fixing their home beyond the areas they needed and to keep hull integrity stable. It was a filthy, ugly mess, and Nabiros suddenly wished he had one of those Firebat gauntlets to purge his way to the prison. That thought made him wonder if there was some in-built reflex in Purifier minds to assume that purification is always a solution to any conceivable problem one can come across in the physical world. Or, which was more likely, only the more belligerent and violent personalities were chosen for the program, considering how they were originally never meant to do anything else but fight wars the Conclave told them to. Somewhere deep down, Nabiros was glad that the Zerg butchered the Conclave, and maybe even that they pushed the Protoss to the brink of extinction. While he found himself increasingly at odds with the original phase-smith whose memories he inherited, they both agreed that the Protoss were in dire need of a thorough humbling.

After an altogether 3 minute walk, he reached the supposed prison area. However, it was only a storage room with a locked door that Nabiros had no patience to deal with. Besides, it was too small for him. Using a particle beam built into one of his mechanical tendrils, the Purifier quickly cut a large enough hole for himself in the flimsy and thin wall. Using the magnets built into his two large crane-like arms that he often thought of as his second pair of hands, he pulled the piece of metal out and gently placed it over the door. He didn't want to make noise that would upset his resting companions, he didn't want to find out what they are like when they are upset.

Inside the poorly lit room, there was a lot of mess that Nabiros couldn't care enough to identify. However, he found the two Terrans: one of them was a woman, average height and build for Terrans as far as he knew, but suspiciously thin, just like the colonists. She wore a dirty light brown overall, and she herself seemed unhygenic, but something about her made Nabiros think that this isn't what she normally looked like. The other at first seemed like a box, and only after registering life signs did he believe that it was actually the other Terran. It was a male of the species, large and with rough features, but he was also filthy and probably malnourished as the woman. More importantly, he was missing all his limbs, and from what Nabiros could tell, he already had cybernetic implants in their place, meaning that the man lost all his limbs at least for the second time. He was not awake, probably because he was even more malnourished than the woman, as the Purifier made what little sense he could of the readouts his sensors could offer him. It seemed very likely that the man gave his portion of the already meagre rations they were given to the woman.

"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice trembling with barely contained fear. "What do you want?"

Nabiros believed that he should not enter the room until the woman considers her a threat. "I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers. My comrades and I have taken the pirates into custody, and a Dominion relief fleet is already en route to take control of the situation. They should be here in 3 hours." after hearing no response for several seconds, he asked. "May I enter?"

"Oh, umm... y-yes, of course." the woman seemed distracted with her thoughts.

As he stepped closer, careful to keep 3 meters between themselves, it became evident that these Terrans were abused physically as well. If the facial bruises were any indication, they had many of those all over them. Looking her in the for the first time, he saw an intelligent, curious mind that was indesperate need of some medical attention, food, and quality rest.

"Tekka, give me waypoints to the nearest food storage, as well as whatever these mongrels have for a medical facility." he said to Tekka over comms, which the woman could hear nothing of, then he turned to her. "I am not an expert in taking care of Terrans, so if I brought the two of you to a food storage and a medical facility, would that be of help?"

The woman's face lit up with a mixture of hope and lust for a decent meal and maybe, just maybe shower, but then it quickly turned into a sad expression. "I think my ankle is broken, I cannot walk, and as you can see, neither can he."

"That can be easily solved." Nabiros first picked up the woman in his arms, slowly and gently not to frighten or injure her in any way. Then, he turned around and picked up the man with his crane-arms and his tendrils, securing him on his back like a backpack.

"This is so embarrassing." the woman muttered.

"Why would it be?" he asked innocently, as he followed the waypoints he received from Tekka. Fortunately, the two locations were very close to each other, and not too far from where they were.

A weird little sound escaped from her, most likely in surprise that he heard her. She responded a few seconds later. "I can barely tolerate how filthy I am, and yet, here I am, getting my first-ever princess carry, and from a Protoss, of all people, just to make things worse."

Nabiros thought about it for a second. "You call this carrying method 'princess carry'?"

The woman moaned in exhaustion. "I'm sorry Mr. Protoss, I feel way too tired to explain human culture to you, so my short, and only, answer is 'yes'."

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend." Nabiros apologised, berating himself that he forgot her condition. "But do not worry, we will find you food and water, and whatever else you need and we can find."

"Aaahhh, that'd be nice." she moaned. "Oh, I mean, thank you very much."

"Happy to help." Nabiros said cheerfully and without thinking. He was glad that he had next to no facial expressions, otherwise the woman would have seen how surprised he was by his own words. He turned around a corner, went to the second door on the left, and hoped it wasn't locked. However, he soon realised that all his limbs are full of Terrans, though the door was much larger this time, he could fit through it with a little care. To his immense fortune, the door seemed to detect motion, and opened for him without any coercion. Looking around like a little bird from a large nest, the woman looked very happy, though she did drool a bit. Nabiros went to the back of the large room, near a small door that suspiciously looked like it lead to where the food actually was, and put the woman in one of the chairs at the table nearest to said door. He put a white, unassuming triangular coin before her on the table. In a moment, a holographic screen appeared above it that allowed the woman to see what he saw, although heavily filtered, limiting it to normal vision and without his HUD.

"I will go and find some food for you." he explained. "With this, you can help me identify what you need."

"Wow." she said, looking at the triangular coin and the holographic screen. "Oh god, I knew I looked like shit but I didn't know it was this bad."

Deciding not to comment, Nabiros went to the door, opened it, looked around inside, confirmed that the door could be sufficiently enlarged without damaging that nearby shelf, enlarged the hole, then went through. It took them a few minutes but they managed to find some sustenance. Oddly enough, they were several bars made of some white substance. Remembering that the colonists were talking about "meat", "vegetables", "pastry", and "drinks", Nabiros was fairly certain that these were field rations for soldiers, where more conventional food could not be prepared. A smart choice, he thought.

"Aaah, yesss, I feel my personality coming back to me." she moaned with joy after finishing the first one and washing it down with a cup of water. Seeing the slight tilt of the Protoss' head and the lack of comment, she explained herself. "Don't take it too literally but that's the best metaphor. I heard you Protoss don't eat, so hunger must be alien to you."

Nabiros thought for a second before replying. "We do require sustenance but we acquire it from the sun and the ambient humidity. As you can imagine, we seldom become malnourished. Consequently, seeing people starve is... a shock. Not something we can tolerate. Well, at least I can't."

"That's enviable." she said, munching on her second bar slowly. "I cannot even begin to imagine the socio-economic consequences of that single trait."

"... I thought that Terrans need time to digest the food they consume before resuming normal levels of activity." Nabiros remarked with slight surprise.

"Depends on who you ask." she shrugged. "Then again, this stuff was meant to kick in fast, so don't assume anything too big."

Nabiros nodded. "If I may ask, what lead you to this fate?"

The woman thought to herself for a while, before carefull saying, "Let's start over, shall we? I'm Valerie Jacobson, an investigative reporter for UNN. Now, since my introduction means about as little to you as yours to mine, it will require some explanation. If you're interested that is."

"Yes, please explain." Nabiros' expressions said nothing, but his voice was filled with curiosity.

"Umm... could you sit down, first? Looking up to you is making my neck hurt."

The Purifier quickly put two and two together. "We still have to go to the infirmary. You should be able to lie down there."

"Yeah, I really should have figured out that your armour is too heavy for these chairs." she nodded. Before she could move, Nabiros picked her up as she was on the chair, making Valerie instinctively grab the other two bars and the large bottle of water. He held the chair in his left hand by the bottom of the sitting part.

"Wow. You've got some muscles." Valerie said admiringly.

"I don't, I'm entirely mechanical." Nabiros replied.

"What, you're a robot?" she asked, turning to face him in her chair, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Are you an animal?" he asked, looking her in the eye (as much as you can with a visor for eyes).

Valerie took a breath to retort angrily, but then started thinking, opening her mouth to speak every now and then. They reached the infirmary when she said, "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

"You asked out of curiosity, there is nothing wrong with that." he said as he cut the door to size again and gently tilted the wreck to the floor. "I'm curious about you, you're curious about me, it is inevitable to find sensitive topics. As long as common courtesy is observed I'm open to further exchanges of information."

"Sounds good." she said, barely paying attention as she was watching the Purifier at work.

Fortunately, the infirmary looked moderately decent, though Nabiros did wish he had something to sterilise the place with. Still, he managed to find a pair of beds with clean sheets to put his protégés into. As he put her into bed, he quickly realised that this time he really needed to find something to sit on. Thinking quickly, he gently heated up the wreck he made of the door and its vicinity, then bent it into a sturdy box, bending it where necessary. He put it next to Valerie's bed and sat on it, though he did use his crane-army to help hold his weight. He didn't trust the sound he heard when he tried it at first.

"So that phase-smith part did mean that you were an engineer of some sort." Valerie sad as he put some pillows behind her back so she could sit comfortably.

"Correct." Nabiros nodded. "I'm a scientist as well as an engineer, though my preferences and talents make me lean towards the latter."

"Aah, I see." she nodded. "I guess it's my turn to explain what investigative journalism means." she drank a little from her bottle. "How do you Protoss handle news?"

"We tell it to each other." he shrugged. "Additionally, the central archives are constantly updated, with the news relevant to your job sorted to the top of the list. Very few things are hidden from the public, and even less than that stays that way for long. Awareness is maintained, allowing us to adapt and react as necessary with a decent reaction time. For example, when non-specialist sensors find a planet rich in raw materials, a number of things happen simultaneously. First, a team of prospectors will visit the planet and perform a wide range of scans to determine how much of what there is on the planet. Second, the Judicators decide how much should we invest into mining there, based on our current needs. Third, the Templar scout and secure the area, even if it is in the middle of our territory, just to be sure; they can always deem it sare enough to leave only a token garrison behind. Lastly, the many forges across the empire prepare some space in their workflow to create the necessary infrastructure that will be required for the mining colony, so that when the construction of the colony starts, the required buildings can be warped in immediately. Then, we wait for the prospectors' report and the Judicators' decision. For the example's sake, let's assume that the prospectors report that the planet is rich in vespene and decent in other things. Then, the Judicators, knowing that there is no such thing as having enough vespene, will order the construction of extractors, and if it makes sense logistically, refineries. They fit the new mining colony into the supply chains and assign the necessary workforce. Finally, the forges, well prepared for the new demands, already have at least some of the necessary structures ready between themselves, and the construction can begin. Depending on how long the prospectors take and how the forges' workflow looks like at the time, the first shipment will leave the planet usually a month after the initial detection."

Valerie sat there for a few moments in disbelief. "That's unbelievably efficient and open." she almost asked 'but what if a scandal happens, like a Judicator fucks a Templar's wife or something', but her instinct told her to go about it in a much more polite and indirect way. "Yours is an orderly society, I imagine? Everyone does their job, minds their own business, behaves well, that sort of thing?"

"Yes, usually that is the case." Nabiros nodded. "We have our share of miscreants as well but they are quickly expelled, imprisoned, or eradicated."

"I'm going resist the temptation of that tangent, so I'll just stick to the topic and... uuhhh... so you're telling me you don't have people who collect information and share it?"

"Of course there are, the scouts."

"Nonono, I mean, internally."

"The Judicators or their assistants do that. I'm not familiar with their organisation."

"So there is no one who will write an article about some law that was instated that the public has been against the entire time?"

"Why would they be against a law that the Judicators thought necessary or just? Why would they want to tell the Judicators how to perform their function without being Judicators themselves?"

"See, that's unbelievable." Valerie threw up her arms. "How the hell am I going to explain this *unknown Terran word* to you now?" Trying to think of something, Valerie went with what came to mind first. "Terran society is a bit like the Zerg, in a sense, except there is no coordination like that. Everyone is out for themselves, although there is a system to fit into, depending on what skills you were born with, your family's social and economic status, and your environment. Practically, there is no such thing as equality. If you can get the thing you want without anyone being able to stop you, it's yours. Same goes for information, which immediately creates a host of news agencies, each having their own perspective and professionals on what's going on in their chosen area of expertise, and then you have to factor in loyalty to the government, which can go either way. So you see, being a journalist means hunting for information, like a predator, making sure it's real, then doing whatever you want to or are forced to do with it. A single bit of information can make or brake governments. There was that huge scandal with Arcturus when that audio record got out, that almost knocked him off the throne, except he still had enough guns to hold onto power." she drank a few gulps from her bottle. "Investigative journalism is a bit more specific. You're after the truth, the whole truth, the unedited, as-it-crawled-out-of-its-mother truth, and decide if keeping it to yourself or sharing it with the world would be better for everyone involved. For example, if you find out that Archons are made of shoving two Templar into one, you'll shut up about it because it opens a giant cosmological can of worms, and nothing good can come of that. However, if you find out that, say, some Protoss decided to knock out an entire pirate base purely out of the goodness of their hearts, then you can either work with that, or dig deeper. Usually when digging deeper is an option, and you're a real, ballsy, die-hard investigative journalist, you dig deeper, or die trying, because living in lies is for cowards like Arcturus."

Nabiros stared in front of himself for a while, pondering what he heared, then a thought occured to him. "You know, I think my crew and I may resemble your description. At least it sounds much better than what we told the Dominion."

"What was that?"

Nabiros turned to look at Valerie. "Volunteer Protoss social workers."

Valerie exploded in laughter, long and hard. "If only I had been there when the comms guy told his boss that, and all the way up to the guy who's supposed to deal with this."

"Christ, Valerie, keep it down, my head is going to split in three." suddenly the man spoke up.

"Konrad!" Valerie shouted in surprise, turning to the other side where the man was laying. "Oh my god, Konrad! You're not going to believe this!"

"You decided to take a vow of silence and become a nun to atone for the headache your ceaseless chatter caused to others?" the man groaned, his eyes still closed in pain.

Valerie picked up one of her pillows and threw it at Konrad's face. "*unknown Terran word* you, you ungrateful *unknown Terran word*hole! We're saved! The pirates got *unknown Terran word* in the ass by some Protoss who dropped by, and the Dominion will have some folks here in hours!"

"What?" Konrad's voice was muffled under the pillow. "Listen, unless that Protoss guy brought some food with him I don't give a *unknown Terran word*."

Konrad saw that the pillow was lifted off of his face, revealing a giant Protoss clad head to toe in some armour, holding two combat ration bars and a bottle in his giant hands. "You have no limbs available, so you will have to be fed."

Valerie could be heard laughing, beating the bed with her fist. The two men waited patiently, if awkwardly, for her to finish. "I... I wish I had that on camera, oh my god... No need for you to feed him, I'l do it, just push my bed next to his, we've got this."

A few floors above, the Archon and Tekka could only guess at the raw waves of joy erupting from the infirmary. Tekka sat awkwardly, as the Archon giggled in the other corner, muttering something like 'it tickles'. She really, really wanted that relief fleet to hurry up.


	11. Chapter 11

Apologies for the formatting errors, the "unknown Terran word" bits namely, I'm still getting used to the limitations of this... thing.

And since we're talking, I'm glad you folks are having a good time reading this story, it's always good to see that you enjoy it in the reviews. Cheers!

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.24

 **Location:** Naldor III, supposedly abandoned orbital platform  
 **Time:** 4 hours after the pirate ship landed on Tarrin V

While she fed Konrad, Valerie introduced him. "This charming fellow here is Konrad Walters, my bodyguard. He's the toughest man I've ever known, and he might not look like it but he's pretty old. He used to live on Mar Sara, where he worked as an engineer. However, suddenly Zerg and Protoss happened and he found himself in the local Magistrate's milita, then soon after the Sons of Korhal, Arcturus Mengsk's old rebel army. He lost his right arm during the evacuation of Mar Sara when a zergling chewed on it too long to leave anything to fix. Wherever the fighting was the thickest, he was there killing and fixing his way to victory, so it's little surprise that he was at New Gettysburg as well. He doesn't like to talk about it, but he did lose his left arm to a zealot according to the medical logs I could dig up. When Raynor rebelled against Arcturus, he quiety ditched both groups and became a mercenary."

"Turns out I was right." he growled as he chewed on his ration bar. "Lot of folks died in the Brood War. I don't think I would have survived that, the battles were much more brutal than before. Guess that's what happens when the Zerg whirlwind of teeth and spines get the brains and attitude of a Ghost out for vengeance."

"You still racked up a pretty impressive kill count running private security." she reminded him.

"Yeah, protecting mining colonies seemed like free money at first." Konrad shrugged. "But when pirates started showing up and the occasional stray Zerg and UED we earned a decent bonus. By the way, how did you deal with the pirates here?"

"We baited them all into one room, locked the exits, then adjusted the oxygen levels until they all fainted." Nabiros answered casually. "They are alive but rendered irrelevant."

"Alive but rendered irrelevant." Valerie repeated. "That's cold."

"I'd have been warmer, sure." Konrad grinned. "I would have flooded the place with oxygen, then thrown in a couple incendiary grenades. Because *unknown Terran word* pirates."

"My comrades and I share your sentiment." Nabiros nodded, sounding a little disappointed. "But we were unsure how your people deal with pirates, so we chose a path that allowed the most options. However, I would much rather hear the rest of his tale, Valerie Jacobson."

"Oh, right." she gathered her thougths for a moment. "So Konrad missed out on the big events of the Brood War but he was still around. We met a year or so after the Brood War was over. Being an investigative journalist means getting into a lot of trouble, but that also means the pay is great and you can even get funding for a number of things. I was working on an article about the lives of mercenaries, so it made perfect sense that I hired a bodyguard, especially a veteran mercenary. Sure, it wasn't cheap, but my boss recognised the value of it so we both got the money we wanted. The initial article was an amazing success, so it was small surprise that my boss told me to make an entire series, with interviews, not just a recollection of what had been said. We worked together ever since then, until this whole war against Amon happened. We met Raynor's Raiders on Agria, where we were gathering info for an article about life in the colonies..."

"That was the stupidest job we ever got." Konrad interrupted. "It was a commission to make a commercial, really. UNN wanted to put living on the colonies in a better light, so Val was told to find enough material for it, which, obviously, would be edited to the point it might as well be called fiction."

"That's one way to describe it." Valerie nodded, obviously unhappy with their work on Agria. "But you know how it goes: some jobs you do for fun, some jobs you do for money." Konrad grunted in agreement. "So for some reason we got attacked by the Zerg but didn't have the firepower to evacuate. Fortunately, the Raiders showed up soon enough and helped save the colonists. After we realised the scale of what is going on, we agreed that we both had to do our part to help out. Konrad went with the marines, while I got assigned on a 'what are we in need of most' basis, which usually meant either working the comms or providing fire support with the biggest, meanest sniper rifle in the galaxy that Konrad made for me. Shame I'll never see it again, though, the pirates probably sold all our gear by now." the woman looked so sad like she lost a family member. After a few moments, she shook her head to focus and continued. "We met up on Char, when the Raiders and then-Prince Valerian's army were defending that Xel'naga artifact that eventually cleansed the Queen of Blades of the Zerg infestation. That's where Konrad lost his legs. I was there. After Raynor and his crew flooded the Nydus network with lava, the battlefield became tectonically less stable, so it's no surprise that when several cubic kilometres of Zerg charged at us near the end, the ground shook and lava erupted here and there. We were on our way to reinforce the eastern bunker line when the nearby lava river suddenly flooded and a short-lived geyser spat even more lava all over the place. I got away with a ruined armour but Konrad was less lucky. Fortunately, our help wasn't essential to victory, so we won and we could get to the infirmary without having to worry about a cloud of scourges. Things calmed down for a while, so I could tend to Konrad while he healed. We both got back into the thick of it just in time to help the re-infested Queen of Blades with her assault on Korhal."

"It was a bit weird." Konrad interrupted. "It felt like being a wingman for Raynor while he had his make-up orgy of bloodshed with Kerrigan. Still, it was fun. It felt good to be on the winning team for once without losing a limb."

"Yeah, that battle was weird, every second of it." Valerie nodded. "I never thought I would ever appriciate a flock of Mutalisks appearing from behind me, so that together we could support a herd of Ultralisks leaking horrible radioactive gases."

"Or when we were nearing the palace, remember?" Konrad asked, reminiscing excitedly. "We were knee-deep in the dead when suddenly the Odin showed up with reinforcements. We thought that we are going to join the organic paste that became the ground in hours, but then we heared this awful sound, like a chorus of badly treated patients howling in pain and rage, and Stukov showed up with a tidal wave of infested. I can still see their ugly bits flying every which way, like a sponge that sucks in ammo, and then those Primal Zerg things showed up from the other side, flanking the preoccupied Dominion soldiers. They were like a crazy, bloodthirsty, organic spear that rammed itself up the Dominion's *unknown Terran word*, then once the momentum is gone, they turned into a blender made of fangs and claws and other mean bits."

"And that moment when you think 'I'm so glad that those infested and Primal Zerg showed up', and realise what you just thought." Valerie interrupted, sounding so happy like she wasn't talking about the second most brutal siege Korhal ever suffered. "Everyone else thought that too. We just looked at each other, felt real silly for a few seconds, then we got back into the thick of it because we wouldn't be caught slacking on the job. We even met Stukov!"

"Yeah, that was crazy cool." Konrad nodded enthusiastically. "We ran out of Zerg and infested for a while, so we hunkered down in some ruins, when some banshees appeared, cloaked, of course. We only heard their engines and saw the rockets. So Stukov runs to this siege tank that was flipped into a wall by a giant explosion, casually opens a hole on its bottom plating like opening a can, and pulls out some of the munitions the tank still had. Then, like they were javelins, he threw them into the air, and his hand lit up in orange, and the shell exploded, right beneath the tail of one of the banshees, it turned out, sending it crashing into one of the many buildings there that were still standing. The other banshees must have thought it was just a lucky shot, so they all jumped at Stukov."

"If someone else would have told my I would have called them a filthy liar." Valerie interrupted. "But Stukov just stands there, giving zero *unknown Terran word*, and with a flick of his hand the rockets are thrown off their mark and scatter around him, their explosions only accentuating just how vastly he outguns some uppity bunch of banshees. Without missing a beat, he launched more shells into the air, each resulting in the demise of a banshee. And then, almost in slow motion, he turns to the two of us as we huddled in cover, watching him in awe. A grin crawled across his face, infernally joyful, and he gave us a thumbs up, then went off towards the front, like he was going to besiege the palace by himself."

"I don't care that he's infested, he's still a great guy, and one day I want to tell him that." Konrad said with glowing eyes. "Because that was the coolest moment of my life, and I knew I would die a happy man."

"I completely agree." Valerie nodded with conviction. "Sure, there are those who feel defined by their physical attributes, but in the end, the really interesting people are those whose identity shines through whatever body they might inhabit, often in defiance of it, and Stukov is one such character."

"I can only agree as well." Nabiros said, nodding slowly. "I recently met someone quite like that, whose very exitence is an inspiration for me. You will meet it soon enough, although I am unsure for how long."

"...it?" Valerie asked with a confused expression on her face.

"You will see. However, you still have to explain how you ended up here. I truly appriciate everything you have told me, but my original question still stands."

"Oh, that?" Konrad asked with a bored grunt. "We thought that since the Dominion has withdrawn to the core worlds to rebuild, we could make ourselves useful by locating survivors on planets that lie in pre-war Dominion space. We had some success, though folks were obviously angry that the Dominion doesn't send out help, even if they understood the reasoning behind it. Roughly a month ago we came to this end of Dominion space, hearing rumours about pirates harrassing poor colonists. We thought we could take on a few pirates, organise the colonists, train them a bit, then move on, but we got caught in a week. Our ship was too small for cargo hauling and our gear too high maintenance for the pirates to keep so we're fairly sure they're all gone."

"And there's more." Valerie looked down into her lap with a defeated gaze. "We're both in a bad spot. People aren't fond of cyborgs like Konrad, especially if they have no money and no limbs, so he would need my support to buy all the things he would need to build his replacement limbs, and even then he would need weapons and armour to be a mercenary, because I'm quite sure he doesn't want to do security or military work anymore." Konrad nodded in agreement. "However, my journalist career ended when I revealed to the public that Valerian Mengsk owned the Moebius Foundation, and thus could be held accountable for what they did. He publicly denied awareness and took responsibility for it, but it's an empty gesture since the Dominion is in no state to revolt against his rule, and because almost the entire Moebius Foundation was wiped out in the war, so proving either argument is impossible. Valerian himself never made an effort to do anything against me, but my bosses at UNN decided to distance themselves from me as decisively as possible. Best I could do is find some military or security work, but those kind of jobs don't pay the kind of money we would need to get Konrad on his feet, literally."

"Nonsense." Nabiros rumbled without thinking, waving his hand dismissively. "I have better use for you than your own kind would ever be able find for you."

Valerie looked up at him in surprise. "Like what? What's your offer?"

Nabiros leant forward a little, leaning on his knees as he sat on his makeshift bench. "I have a self-sufficient ship with free rooms for you, a forge to create whatever item you require, but most of all, I and my crew are on a mission to help the Terran Dominion in any meaningful way we can. After that... who knows?"

"That sounds a little too good to be true." Valerie had a hard time reading the Purifier but her reflexes were wary of such an unrealistically good offer.

"Of course I answer to Hierarch Artanis and the Executor Council for what I and my crew do, but that is hardly a problem for honourable and virtuous people like you two." seeing that some more explanation is necessary, Nabiros continued. "And I also get into unusual situations almost constantly ever since I left Aiur approximately 3 weeks ago. Still, I have no regrets and I intend to live and die without any." Nabiros stood up slowly. "I am going to check up on my crew. The Dominion relief fleet should be here soon. Discuss my offer and decide in the meantime." the Purifier bowed his head slightly and left.

* * *

"That's... that's quite the story." Tekka nodded, thinking, after Nabiros told them about his encounter with the two Terrans and what they talked about. "I see that you are set in your decision and I will not question it. However, I must warn you that they will need time to adjust to our way of life."

" **From what has been told, we do not think that will prove difficult.** " the Archon said, still sitting in his dark corner. " **We also support Nabiros' decision. These two Terrans deserve a better fate than what would await them otherwise. Additionally, it should prove an educational experience.** _And we can hardly go against learning and personal enrichment, now can we?_ That would be hypocritical, and you know how we feel about hypocrisy." the Archon jolted up suddenly. " **The Dominion fleet will be here in moments.** " the Archon rushed to one of the consoles, and the others quickly took positions to watch the screen for any tidbit of information they could make sense of. " **That seems a bit odd for a relief fleet.** "

"I guess their commander was thinking 'when in doubt, send battlecruisers'." Tekka laughed mockingly. "This is great. We have a pair of battlecruisers incoming. They are sending out Wraith squadrons to secure the area... They set up a perimeter... That must be one of those transports that the Raiders improved to be actually useful in combat situations, though its name escapes me, it sounded silly. It's coming with a Viking escort, 8 of them in fact. That's quite the insecurity there."

" **We can sense a frail mind probing this place.** " the Archon chuckled, quite amused. It looked up at the ceiling, as if it could see the inquisitive soul through it. " **It is aware of us. It is terrified, and is making others afraid and nervous as well. We should meet them at the landing bay, otherwise they will be too excited for reasonable communication.** "

"Archon, do I have to remind you of Artanis' directives?" Nabiros asked in a stern voice. "Do not harm the Terrans in any conceivable way. I know I'm asking a lot from someone who is barely more than two weeks old, but you could at least make the attempt."

The Archon stood back from the console, looking at Nabiros as if he hit it with a Zerg larva. Then it looked at the ground introspectively for a moment. Its left head spoke up, looking at the other two. " _We deserved that._ " it turned to Nabiros. " _We apologise. We will stay silent until spoken to, and refrain from scaring the Terrans._ " the head on the opposite side looked at the left head. "I think we really need to redefine what we consider to be funny, our transformation boosted our ego substantially, which seems to have had a widespread impact on our personalities. As we have conluded before, we must grow up again, and it seems that we must do so in more literal ways than we had initially assumed."

Nabiros poked the Archon's chest to get its attention. "Landing bay. Now. Move."

* * *

The crew of the Explorer reached the landing bay after the Dominion landing party already disembarked and started securing the landing zone. Nabiros wasn't surprised that the first to take aim at him and companions was the ghost, who immediately started shaking after he saw the Archon, and the rest quickly followed suit. He didn't need telepathy to tell that while Tekka and the Archon remained calm superficially, inside they were rolling on the floor laughing at the mere notion that some two dozen marines and a ghost could take on the three of them, and not just because of the raw firepower the Archon meant on their side. Considering how pristine their armour was and how scared they were by 2 Protoss and an archon despite having 2 battlecruisers close enough to provide fire support, these marines were all fresh recruits, probably sent as a meatshield for the ghost. It was a sad scene, really.

In an effort to calm their nerves, Nabiros spoke in a calm tone. "We are glad you have arrived so soon. The pirates are unconscious in one of the rooms above, and there are two Terran prisoners in need of medical attention. Nothing serious, only light malnourishment and bruising."

A wave of relief washed over the Terrans, and soon, squads were assigned their tasks who were all too happy to leave the Protoss' company. Even the ghost was given some kind of alibi to leave. Within a minute, the three Protoss found themselves alone with a stern faced woman in marine armour who walked toward them.

"I'm Lieutenant Dianne Tailor, commanding officer of this landing team." she said in a relaxed, raspy, but flat tone, stopping two meters from them. "Good job with the pirates, it's mighty appriciated. We have our hands full keeping the peace and clearing out the leftovers of Amon's minions, so we don't really have the time to help the fringe folks." she sounded sincere, and Nabiros even guessed that she was against leaving the colonies completely to themselves. "I apologise for the sour welcome, these are rookies, and seeing Protoss they don't recognise from the training vids got them confused, especially your three-headed buddy here." she said, gesturing towards the archon.

"I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers, and captain of this crew." Nabiros reached out for a handshake, which the Terran met with ease, though she was surprised for a moment. "I am sure our initial message was confusing but we didn't have a better description."

"Yeah, I heard that one, the brass was looking at me real stupid during briefing." Lt. Tailor laughed.

"It is true, in essence. We are volunteers, and we were sent here to provide aid to the Terran Dominion." Nabiros explained, trying to divert the topic as best he could. "Hierarch Artanis would like Emperor Valerian to know that the Daelaam will be ready to assist in the near future, once our own territory is secured and daily life returns to a minimal level of normalcy. Until then, we are here to provide what limited assistance we can provide."

The lieutenant looked pleasantly surprised as he spoke, and even happy at the end. "Hell, a small elite strike team like yours will have trouble getting sleep, there'd be so much to do." Lt. Tailor looked Nabiros over appraisingly for a moment. "You seem like a straightforward guy, so I'll cut to the chase as well. Emperor Valerian invites you for a chat. Not obligatory, only if you want to."

"Hierarch Artanis had hoped that this would happen." Nabiros nodded. "We will accompany you. I would also like to ask a favour."

"You did good by me, so I'll see if I can do good by you." she nodded.

"The two Terrans who were imprisoned here are under my protection." Nabiros tried to sound casual. "However, without being present I can hardly look after them. I would like to ask you to keep them safe until I return for them."

"Agreed." she nodded again. "But why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"They are good people, and have suffered enough." Nabiros said without thinking, hearing himself sound stern but not unkind. "I would see them live their lives as they would have it, not as circumstances would allow."

"I can live with that." the lieutenant cracked a smile. "Where's your ship though?"

"It is on one of the nearby colonies. With your permission, we will board this... thing, and retrieve it. We will give this one to the colonists, so they will no longer be stranded."

"Granted." Lt. Tailor said immediately.

"If I may advise." Tekka spoke up. "The pirates held the nearby colonies hostage via an interlinked web of interdependance. This must be resolved, or the colonies will perish."

The lieutenant spat on the floor in disgust. "Goddamn pirates. Thank you for the info, I'll make sure to sort this out. Now get going, the sooner you come back the less time I have to change my mind and throw those pirates out the airlock."

"I suddenly feel disinclined to hurry." Nabiros said, his voice dripping with venom.

Lt. Tailor laughed. "Good man. En taro Tassadar, Purifier."

"En taro Tassadar, lieutenant." Nabiros instinctively bowed slightly in surprise, and lead his crew to a certain slab of metal with engines.

" **We like her.** " the Archon whispered quietly when they were a bit further away.

"We can only hope..." Nabiros started saying.

Tekka's gauntleted hand slapped on his face. "Don't jinx it. Don't say a word. The last time you said something wishfully when we left a place to go to another we found dead Terrans and a Dark Archon. I don't want to find out if it was only a one time occurrence."

"The Archon will be flying the ship, I would mind my words if I were you." Nabiros chuckled.

" **No need to appriciate us until we have managed to fly the ship.** " the Archon said. " **The pilot had very little understanding of his ship. He was originally a taxi driver, whatever that is, and just improvised and got lucky until he knew enough to fly the ship.** "

Tekka and Nabiros looked at each other, having the same thought that need not be spoken: 'we are relying on a Dark Archon to pilot a ship based on its theft of the knowledge of a pirate who never had real pilot training.' This will be their most tense trip yet. 


	12. Chapter 12

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.25

 **Location:** Korhal, Imperial Palace  
 **Time:** Morning

The colonists on Tarrin V were very happy to hear the good news from them when they went to retrieve their ship. With a ship of their own, they can move about the nearby systems, and with the Dominion giving a helping hand, they looked forward to help out the other 'hostage colonies'. Nabiros was surprised to see that Tekka, a Tal'darim of all people, seemed to glow with joy and relief as she saw that the Terrans were now in a position to claim their own fate. He suspected that there was something personal behind it but decided not to pry, it would have been untimely. Fate has been kind so far, if somewhat twisted in its sense of humour, and he was certain that an opportunity will present itself when the time is right.

They returned to the pirate base soon after, where they found the pirates in shackles, boarding their transport ship in shock and disbelief. After a short search for Lt. Tailor, they found out that Valerie Jacobson and Konrad Walters have already been transported to one of the battlecruisers' medbays, where they are recovering. To her surprise, when the lieutenant mentioned that the Protoss were keenly interested in the welfare of the odd duo, the medical personnel scrambled to check everything that could be checked, and cleaned and fixed Konrad's cybernetic harness. They even managed to find old cybernetic prosthetic models that can connect with his less than up to date harness. Nabiros made a mental note to familiarise himself with the topic. He found himself increasingly appriciating his mechanical body, since he could memorise and recall information with a speed and clarity that few biological species could match.

When they reached Korhal, the crew of the Explorer could see that it was still in bad shape. Augustgrad was largely cleaned up and its remaining structures were repaired but there was less of them than empty building space, which was filled with ordered rows of pre-fabricated shelters, streams of people moving about like blood in veins, making the overall cityscape look like a healing wound. Unfortunately, the rest of the planet's cities looked much worse, clean-up crews working around the clock to remove debris, corpses, and structurally unsafe buildings. Nabiros felt sorry for the Terrans, knowing that the Daelaam finished tidying up their cities in weeks after the war, and were in the process of getting their infrastructure in shape. He couldn't help but feel that Artanis was aware of the state and progress of the Dominion, and the timing of his aid is perfect: late enough that the Terran government can show the people they can and are getting the job done, but soon enough that there is plenty of work to do. Nabiros felt proud of his Hierarch's shrewdness and clarity, and inspired to improve himself.

Nabiros found the Imperial Palace the single most amusing piece of Terran architecture, as they approched it in a civilian transport. He was convinced that whoever designed it saw a Protoss nexus at least once, and in a fit of awe, jealousy, and minority complex, decided to build a bigger, and arguably better one. Said architect would have felt annihilated if he had seen the cityscape of Aiur before it fell. Still, he had to admit that putting turrets on it wasn't a bad idea, something that new nexus variants meant for combat zones should include as well. Nabiros started to see a pattern in Terran architecture, a logic that went "Is it really, really important? Yes. Would someone want it to be gone? Yes. Then put turrets on it." Considering the Terrans' chaotic and internal conflict ridden society, it made sense that they had an almost instinctive urge to fortify. Nabiros found a twisted sort of reasoning behind the notion "the deepest sense of security comes from the sight of your enemies' bodies littering the landscape around your home". Which in turn, it seems, created the Terran offensive attitude that required at least some feedback from those they defeated, resulting in the barbaric mindset of crushing their enemies, seeing them driven before them, and hear the lamentation of their remaining population. But most confusing of all, this was generally abhorred by the civilian population, even if they took some enjoyment from the sense of domination they got out of conquest. It was like Terrans couldn't live without discord and self-contradiction, creating a society that was very much like a twisted cultural adaptation of Zerg cellular behaviour. Nabiros suddenly felt like it would be easier to achieve peaceful coexistence with the Zerg than the Terrans. Then again, the Protoss were historically a genocidal species, truth be told, and relied on a telepathic network to communicate their thoughts and emotions, so while their culture was admittedly less turbulent, they had very little social skills. It was a humbling revelation.

After landing, they were lead through a series of corridors. Battle damage was everywhere, and at one point Nabiros was certain that the Queen of Blades butchered her way past that very hall they passed through, as she fought through the palace guards to execute Arcturus Mengsk, the previous Emperor. He wondered if the Terrans decided that they had more pressing concerns than interior aesthetic issues, or they were deliberately keeping the scars of Kerrigan's passing as a memento of some sort. Nabiros found himself hoping for the latter, especially after Kerrigan's ascension to Xel'naga.

The crew of the Explorer and their escort of four marines reached a large door, that opened to reveal great hall. The marines stood guard at the sides of the corridor, allowing them entry. As they looked around, they realised that the hall was actually a museum, one that only recently received the many items it would hold. Paintings and mementos from across Terran space could be found here, from an elaborate statue of Arcturus Mengsk to a badly damaged but clean green sign that had the words "New Folsom Prison" in white letters. Walking amongst the containers, boxes, and opened items was Emperor Valerian Mengsk, cataloguing each on his data slate. When he heard Nabiros' heavy footsteps (the others' were so quiet in comparison they couldn't be heard), he turned to them.

"Welcome to my museum." he gestured around with a smile, giving him a boyish look for a moment. "Is what I wish I could say. This is where I store the pieces of history that I want secured for future generations. I have already found the place in the city where I want to build the museum, but that will be a task for less occupied times."

As the Emperor talked, the crew of the Explorer slowly walked towards him, looking around at the many items that were gathered here. They halted at an exact 3 meters from the ruler of the Terran Dominion. The Protoss bowed with respect, and Nabiros spoke. "Greetings, Emperor Valerian. I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers, and captain of this crew. This is Tekka, librarian of the Tal'darim, and this is the Archon, formerly twelve ancient Nerazim scholars. We are honoured by your invitation."

Valerian raised an eyebrow upon hearing that last bit. "How come such a unique character is left without a name?" That caught everyone off-guard, even the Archon. "You truly have no name?"

" **We do not.** " the Archon rumbled, sounding surprised. " _It didn't occur to us that we needed one. We each have our own names, but after being reborn as a single entity, we..._ We were content with being called Archon, it helped drive home our new way of existence."

Valerian looked at the Archon, appraising it and deep in thought. "You remind me of Hecate ( _pronounce: 'heket'; the writer_ ), an goddess from our ancient myths. She was usually depicted as a three-headed goddess, or three women standing shoulder to shoulder, making everyone wonder if Hecate was three people or one. Among other things, she was the goddess of magic, and accessing realms past the physical in general. Archons are as good as magical in nature, and their experience of the world is most assuredly different than ours."

" _We do have a female majority._ " the Archon's left head thought out loud, looking at the other two. "And it does fit." the right head nodded in agreement.

"But remember: _nomen est omen_ , as one of our ancient sayings goes." Valerian said, half joking, half serious. "Names are a sign, as much a mark as a warning to others."

" **The Protoss have long known of the power of names.** " the Archon nodded. " **We appriciate the warning nonetheless.** _Hecate sounds good, we already agreed on it but most of us were torn between ceremony and practicality._ That solves our problem, then. **Emperor Valerian, allow us to ask: how come you have such an interest in history and mythology for someone so** **young?"**

"Some of my teachers would say that I was born old." Valerian laughed, looking like a happy young man again. "I'm an archeologist at heart, I enjoy a historical perspective and a wealth of knowledge." his expression lost its previous enthusiasm, his eyes looking at something he saw before himself. "However, being the Emperor means that I have very little time to spare for simple joys like cataloguing these items, but in exchange I get to do the right thing for my people. That's a good trade in my book."

The Protoss looked at each other, nodding. " **We have seen many rulers in our time.** " the Archon said, its voice rumbling gently. " **They were all people, like you and us, but the greatest of them all were those who retained their character even under the heavy burden of leadership. Have faith, young Emperor, for you show great promise. We would be honoured if you called upon us whenever you need us.** _Speaking of which, we should get down to business, we have probably spent our pleasantry budget ten times over._ Nabiros, relay Hierarch Artanis' message to Emperor Valerian."

"Yes." Nabiros nodded, still having images of a happy Valerian planning his museum float around in his mind. "Hierarch Artanis would like you to know that the Daelaam will be ready to assist the Terran Dominion with rebuilding it, once the next 3 months have passed. If you choose to accept, he asks that you have a list of requests ready for him to discuss with his Executors to decide how best the Daelaam could help with each given issue. He warns, however, that any request for any piece of Protoss technology in any way will be denied, however small, as well as a military alliance against the Zerg Swarm. The Hierarch hopes that calmer minds would prevail, and a stable peace could be established in this sector."

The Emperor considered the message for a few moments before replying. "I appriciate the Hierarch's offer of aid, and I will gladly accept it and agree to his terms. I will also support any and every diplomatic effort to create peace in the Koprulu sector. However, I am unsure if the Zerg could be trusted. They might have agreed to a cessation of hostilities, but they can rebuild so much faster than either the Daelaam or us that I'm afraid we cannot avoid war for more than a year or two."

"If I may advice, Emperor." Tekka bowed as she spoke. "I am Tekka, librarian of the Tal'darim. Examine the situation from the Zerg perspective. All major factions would feel safer if they were exterminated, some of them would even believe that justice would be served. However, during the war against Amon, they have proven themselves able allies more than once, which was the entire basis of the Terran and Protoss part of the ceasefire agreement. This is an opening they could capitalise on, which is my estimation of what they intend. Their safest course of action would have been to leave the sector entirely, preferably settling down in an uninhabited region of space where they could rebuild in peace. However, they chose to risk staying here, which suggests a different plan. I'm sure you have your own reports that lack any mention of aggressive expansion and regrowth, which also reduces the likelihood of a hostile attitude. If they attempted to bring Feral Zerg back into the Swarm that would be immediately noticed by the other factions, who would obviously unite to exterminate them, which would be a severely one-sided war that would be over in weeks. Therefore, I would recommend giving the Swarm a chance, though no more than one."

"A convincing argument, I will remember it." Valerian nodded in agreement. "Was that the entirety of Hierarch Artanis' message?" he asked, turning back to Nabiros.

"Only that until he can rally more substantial aid, he instructed us to aid you in any way we can." Nabiros gestured to himself and his crew. "Wherever a small team is sufficient, I believe we can succeed. Our ship and we ourselves are self-sufficient, so it is unlikely that we would requisition anything other than information."

"I will have to consult my advisors, but rest assured that you will never have a dull moment for the next 3 months." Tekka could see the tide of ideas swarming through Valerian's eyes. "We like to tell the people that we are doing well, which is mostly true all things considered, but there are plenty of security issues that could use a small and elite strike team. I cannot in good conscience promise that it will be glorious or even worth telling as a story, but you could save a lot of my soldiers' lives and let us secure valuable supply lines."

" _It's not like we have anything better to do._ " the Archon's left head muttered.

"We will do our best." Nabiros said quickly, to divert attention from the Archon's less than necessary comment.

"Very well. En taro Tassadar." the Emperor said, dismissing them.

"En taro Tassadar, Emperor Valerian." Nabiros said as they bowed and left the hall.

Halfway between Valerian and the exit Tekka asked the Archon. "Are you serious about the name?"

" **We are.** " the Archon nodded enthusiastically. " **We will speak more of this later. All these exciting people got us itchy for some slaughter.** "

Tekka glared at it. "I don't want to know how those two things are connected."

Their marine escort were thankful for their visors, otherwise the Protoss guests might have been put off by the fear on their faces as they listened to the Archon's horrifyingly excited cackling.


	13. Chapter 13

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.27

 **Location:** Korhal, in orbit, aboard the battlecruiser "Avalanche"  
 **Time:** Afternoon

Having at least a superficial understanding of the myriad duties of governance, Nabiros wasn't surprised that he had not heard from Emperor Valerian since they last met. Fortunately, this allowed him plenty of time and opportunity to raid the Terran databanks for all their worth, and best of all, Tekka and Hecate (Nabiros was still getting used to not calling it 'Archon') were also very interested. After an hour or two of harassing everyone they could find about 'wanting to read something while they wait', the captain of the battlecruiser decided to solve the matter by assigning Lt. Tailor as their official handler. This turned out to be a profitable agreement for all parties involved: the captain no longer got reports about Protoss on a harassment-spree every ten minutes, the Protoss could read to their heats' desire, and Lt. Tailor could, in her words, 'do something more interesting than babysitting newbie chucklefucks'.

One of the first topics the Protoss were keen to educate themselves in was Terran vocabulary. They recently became aware that Terrans use a wide variety of words the Protoss do not, largely swear words and slang. Lt. Tailor once took them to the training course where fresh recruits were learning how to move around in their bulky CMC-300 powered armour suits, so they could get some 'first hand experience'. To their surprise, Terran training seemed to incorporate a generous amount of verbal lashing of the less aesthetic variety, which apparently worked just fine. Tekka particularly enjoyed the imaginative and colourful images of violence and demeaning comparisons of ability that the lieutenant could throw at her pupils, with an ease that showed practice, but it still felt spontaneously inspired. Nabiros saw the two ladies become fast friends in their discussion of the finer points of abusive language, though he saw that Hecate was drinking their every word.

Beyond that, the Protoss had varying interests. Nabiros studied Terran medicine, anatomy, and engineering, and being a machine, he quickly became a theoretical expert, while admitting to himself that memorising information is one thing, but having actual experience is another. Tekka consumed every tidbit of history and current news she could find, though she was often disappointed by large, red, blinking "CLASSIFIED" signs and the occasional ghost who warned her not to try and read peoples' minds for the information she wants. However, she found that at least some of the classified information could be guessed at by throwing a wider net and drawing proof-based conclusions. Hecate delved deep in Terran mythology, religion, philosophy, and psionics. Obviously, the latter proved difficult, but apparently the ship's ghosts believed that bargaining with the Dark Archon would be an easier and healthier way of getting it out of their hair than trying to explain to it that people are allowed to say no to it. For a few tidbits of advice and the odd coaching, Hecate found out the horrible truth that Terrans can scarcely imagine psionics as a part of daily life without trying to weaponise it. That, and what it read about the rest of the topics made it realise that Terrans are always seeking an edge over their perceived enemies, in order to maintain dominance, which in their mind, is the only sure way of survival. While that did make sense in a disappointingly primitive way, Hecate felt that the Terrans must learn to live with species they can never really dominate. Thinking further, the Archon had to admit that the same applied to the Zerg and the Protoss, both of whom were genocidal races, except the Protoss were xenophobic, while the Zerg were xenophiles in all the wrong ways. Hecate concluded that it lived in interesting times.

When Lt. Tailor called him that his protégés wanted to talk to him, he felt ashamed that for a split second he had no idea what the good lieutenant was talking about.

He was told that they were in the cantina, and with the battlecruiser's schematics in his memory, he easily found his way. The ship's personnel were used to the Explorer's crew to varying degrees. Tekka was the first female Protoss most of them ever saw, and her gauntlets and red eyes looked dangerous, her friendly demeanour and increasing expertise at talking with Terrans meant that she was the easiest to get used to. Then again, the other two might have relativised her to simplicity itself.

Nabiros often found that the Terrans were wary of him, partially because he was wholly mechanical, partially because of the mechanical appendages sprouting from his back. He never thought that he was anything but polite and straightforward, but there was something in their attitude toward him that he couldn't quite describe or explain.

And of course, most people were scared of Hecate to varying degrees, who quickly found itself socialising with the ship's ghosts. When they found out that Emperor Valerian named it Hecate, the crew generally accepted that as a good thing, and several of them even agreed that it fit quite nicely. There was one time when Hecate was chatting with the ghosts in the cantina, and one of them had a tearful brakedown about a woman he loved for a few days perhaps before she was impaled by hydralisk spines as he tried to rescue her from Amon's brood in an outpost (Nabiros deliberately avoided knowing about what Hecate talked about with the ghosts). The Archon gently rubbed the man's back in sympathy, and its three heads sang in choir a Nerazim a low-pitched mourning song about love found and lost, and hope to see each other again in the Eternal Night. Tears were shed, drinks were chugged down, and audio recordings spread like wildfire. People were still afraid of Hecate, but they agreed that it could sing very well. Nabiros was also a little nervous that the day after its naming, the Archon's voice turned from a rumbling male voice to a choir of similar-sounding females. The middle head's, to be precise, the other two stayed the same.

Entering the cantina, Nabiros bowed slightly to fit in the door. Fortunately, the ship's interior was designed for Terrans in combat suits, so moving around was not an issue, but the doors were just a little too short, though thankfully very wide. Inside, he quickly found Konrad, based on his augmentations. However, it took him a few seconds to recognise the woman he was talking to. Thinking again, Nabiros realised only in retrospect just how bad they looked back on the pirate base in comparison with how they looked now.

Konrad was a tall, broad man in his early forties, his dark brown hair cut short, his eyes an energetic but disciplined dark blue. His face was a mess of scars and wrinkles, though the stubble covered some of them. He wore an old padded brown jacket over a grey shirt, similarly old brown cargo trousers, and an even older pair of tough black leather boots with some metal plating on the front and the rear (it was impossible to tell if they were upgrades or efforts at repair). His mechanical, plated hands also seemed worn, and Nabiros guessed that the rest of his cybernetic limbs are in similar shape. He wore his war-torn self with the dignity and pride of those who fought in many of the historical battles of their time, becoming a living memory who still had some tricks up his sleeve.

Based on several quick comparisons of biometric scan data, the woman sitting in front of him was Valerie. She was a little shorter than Konrad, but that was still quite above average for females of their species, if Nabiros' demographic data was accurate. While lacking the raw muscle mass of Konrad, she nonetheless had an athletic build, maybe on the thin side. While her bearing was casual, there was a certain higher class sense about her, most likely because of her face, which might have had the occasional scar and wrinkle, but it was the finely shape face of a nobleborn lady, put in a perfect frame by her flowing brown hair that just barely passed her shoulders. However, this out-of-reach beauty was turned friendly by her slightly slanted brown eyes that shined with an inner cheer, with a glint of subtle appraisal and scrutiny. She was further rendered informal and approachable by wearing a dark brown jacket over a white shirt (Nabiros imagined a whole room full of these things with a sign that said "spare shirts"), a pair of worn blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots, noticably less old than Konrad's.

The duo sat a little to the left of the entrance at a small, round table, with Valerie closer to the wall. The cantina was sparsely populated, so Konrad waved him over silently, not to disturb the peaceful quiet. Nabiros noticed that in the place of the normal metal seat, there was a heavily reinforced cube of what the Terran's called neosteel. He nodded in appriciation towards Konrad and sat down for the first time in the cantina. It certainly was a different experience.

"It is good to see you again." Nabiros said as he sat down. "I was hoping to hear from you soon. How are you feeling?"

Konrad raised his right hand and flexed it a few times. "This isn't fit for combat but it's good enough to move around with. I really want to work on improving my metal bits, an upgrade is long overdue. So yeah, been better, been worse."

"Yeah, the food is good but we're getting a little antsy." Valerie agreed, switching from casual to business in a second. "I've been spending the past day and a half to find us some work. I even tried using your interest in us as a leverage. I'm still not sure if that backfired or simply didn't work. Nevertheless, our situation is mostly as I predicted back on the pirate station: we can't find jobs that pay well enough to get us back on track. Best we could do is sign up for military service and hope for the best, but you can imagine how we feel about that." Nabiros nodded in understanding. The two Terrans have fought in more battles than most other rank-and-file soldiers, and with their severely limited lifespans, it made sense that they wanted to live their own lives after risking it so many times. "So currently we have two options: we either go with civilian jobs and live out our lives in relative peace..."

"... and boredom..." Konrad interjected.

"... or we take you up on your offer and see what happens." Valerie's momentary side glance at Konrad seemed to Nabiros like they disagreed on that point. "That is, if your offer still stands and we could discuss it any further."

"My offer still stands, and I'm ready to discuss whatever concerns you might have." Nabiros shifted around on his seat to reach a more laid back position by leaning on his crane arms, preparing himself for a long and pointless questioning about irrelevant details that pale in comparison to the core values of his offer.

"So just to clarify, you're offering lodging, resources, and facilities for us to live in and work with, in exchange for... what, exactly?" Valerie asked like she was asking something important. Nabiros already felt bored.

"You would be my crew." Nabiros said bluntly. "That means carrying out orders when they make sense and challenging them when they don't. You could ask Tekka or Hecate, I only ask the impossible, nothing shameful, and I help as best I can." Nabiros thought about what he just said for a second. "In retrospect that doesn't sound too promising, but I'm not recruiting because there are empty spots that must be filled, I'm doing it because I believe you would find working and living with us much more valuable and enjoyable than anything you have available to you. I thoroughly appriciate who you are, what you believe in, and what you have fought for, and I consider it criminally wasteful to let you rot in some colony or outpost doing nothing even remotely interesting to you."

"That sounds good on principle, but I would still like to hear some details." Valerie insisted.

"We are currently waiting for Emperor Valerian to give us a set of tasks for the next three months. I doubt they will prove difficult to accomplish." Nabiros thought for a moment. "After that, we improvise, based on what information we have available, how our priorities look like, and what we believe we can get away with. As it is, I would really like to help with creating peace in the Koprulu sector, I would like to hunt some hybrids, and I would really be interested in improving Konrad's cybernetic harness. I'm also certain that Tekka and Hecate have their own ideas as well. To be truthful with you, after the three months are over, I cannot tell if we're going to visit Char, Aiur, or Ulnar, or just spend a few weeks relaxing on some beach. I wouldn't be surprised if all these happened in this order."

Valerie looked uncertain. "That sounds... acceptable, though I hope we won't be fighting hybrids."

"Oh come on, Val, you know the first rule of giant horrifying things." Konrad said sagely. "There is only so much explosives to the face that anything can handle."

"I agree." Nabiros said. "But do continue, Valerie Jacobson."

"Will we ever get payed?" she asked flatly.

"Umm... Val..." Konrad looked awkward. "Protoss don't work like that."

"Then how will we get all the stuff we need?" Valerie turned to Konrad. "Have you ever considered that Protoss ships don't have beds for humans, toilets, showers, kitchens, all the things you take for granted on a Terran ship? Have you ever even heard of Protoss toilet paper or soap?"

Konrad's eyes went wide with surprise. "I feel a little bad that I haven't thought of this."

Valerie pat the man on the shoulder. "That's why you have me."

"As a responsible captain, I have researched the topic extensively." Nabiros replied. "Waste processing, be they bodily fluids or otherwise, can be solved with small disintegrator devices. The food manufacturing facility can easily be installed in one of the spare rooms, as per your request. Regarding the items you require for your daily needs, I'm certain I could ask Emperor Valerian for basic supply rights. I don't imagine providing for two Terrans' practical needs would put a noteworthy stress on the Dominion's supply chains."

"What do you mean by 'supply rights'?" Valerie asked, sensing something unreasonable by Terran standards.

"It is a term commonly used by our explorers and those who perform small-scale field study." Nabiros explained. "If you have none, it means you must be self-sufficient for one reason or another. If you have it, it means you can dock anywhere and ask for whatever you need, within reason, which practically means refuelling, repairs, and ship maintenance. In this case, I assume it would mean 2 months' worth of food, hygenic, and medical supplies. If that is not possible, we can always barter with a few barrels of refined vespene."

"Hold on a second." Valerie stopped him. "Where would you get refined vespene?"

"As I said, my ship is self-sufficient, meaning that it can refine vespene if we can find a geyser." Nabiros replied, a tad bored. "It's simplicity itself."

Valerie's eyes went wide as a train of ideas rushed through her mind, then she quickly went back into business mode. "If you would allow the two of us to handle trade negotiations with Terrans, and provide us with goods to sell, then I am satisfied."

"Very well." Nabiros nodded, laughing to himself that the Terrans ended up becoming even more valuable to him with their material needs. "I will rely on you to notify me of mercantile oppotunities, and to handle the entire trade process. Your economy is strange to us, so it would be beneficial for all of us if we could expand our options by gaining access to Terran supply chains and services."

"That's great!" Valerie said happily. "I can't think of any other questions."

"Yeah, we'll figure out the rest as we go." Konrad nodded.

Even with next to no facial expressions, Nabiros beamed with joy, and put his large hands on their backs. "Welcome to the crew of the Explorer, my friends."

On the other side of the wall, Tekka and Hecate stood, eavesdropping on the entire conversation. Hecate was giggling. " **They have no idea what they are getting themselves into.** "

Tekka was still getting used to Hecate's new female choir for a voice, so when it sounded like a group of Protoss women giggling while watching younglings fumble with their practice blades, while being six times worse than an average Dark Archon, Tekka felt a shiver rush through her spine. Despite being on the ship since the beginning, even she wasn't sure if she understood what she got herself into.


	14. Chapter 14

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.28

 **Location:** Korhal, Imperial Palace  
 **Time:** Morning

Nabiros lead his crew, now expanded with Valerie and Konrad, to one of the many conference rooms in the Imperial Palace. Nabiros walked in front with Tekka, Valerie and Konrad were between them and Hecate, who made a habit of claiming the duty of the rearguard. It was hard to argue against an entity who had no sensory blind spots for ambushers to abuse, and not just because it happened to be a Dark Archon.

"I'm feeling so underdressed..." Valerie whispered to Konrad. They were both in the spare clothes they got in the Avalanche's medbay.

"Yeah, me too." Konrad whispered back.

" _We would be in big trouble if only our clothes were invited._ " Hecate's left head whispered, the Archon leaning down to them. " _Nabiros is essentially naked, you know, and he is the captain._ " the other two heads giggled quietly.

Tekka looked back at them, with the expression of a parent trying to tell if her children were up to something.

"Nothing!" Valerie replied quickly to the inquisitive glare.

" _Yes, nothing at all..._ " and the Archons giggled on.

"One would think that an Archon made up of twelve venerable Nerazim scholars would have more... dignity." Tekka remarked, looking at Hecate.

"I used to think the same thing." Konrad said. "I remember by grandparents arguing about something silly back when I was a kid. When they went to two different parts of the house, I asked grandma: 'Hey granny, I thought old people learned enough to be wise and not argue about silly things'. I couldn't even finish what I wanted to say and she started laughing. She said, 'The older people get after a certain point, the more childish they become'."

" **Well spoken, your grandmother.** " the Archon said. " **The young are always so serious about everything. Then they get a few centuries behind them and they become grumpy and sour. They rarely get old enough to realise what really matters.** "

"And what would that be?" Tekka asked.

"That in the end, we are all in it for tears and laughs." the Archon's right head replied, entirely serious.

"That makes no sense at all." Tekka shook her head, annoyed.

" _That's how we know you're still young._ " the left head laughed. "Incoming comments about our mental health in 3... 2... 1..." the right head counted down. " _You ruined it, now they will just silently conclude that we are insane, and where's the fun in that?_ " the left head lifted the left gun arm and poked the right head in the face. "Yes, my bad, apologies."

"I already love it here." Konrad nudged Valerie in the side.

"That's because you took too many blows and shots to the head." Valerie nudged back with a grin.

"We have arrived." Nabiros said just a little louder than usual and in a firm tone.

The door was guarded by two marines, who opened the door for them. Inside, they found a relatively spacious room with a U-shaped table facing a large screen. Next to the closer end of the table, there were three unusually large and reinforced chairs, obviously meant for Protoss guests, and two normal ones. On the opposite side, an empty chair. Opposite the screen, there was a small bar with refreshments.

"The Emperor will be with you shortly." one of the marines said.

"Understood." Nabiros replied. "We will wait here." the marine bowed slightly (nodding in an enclosed CMC suit was a pointless gesture) and closed the door.

Nabiros stood like a statue between the table and the bar, which occupied the entirety of Hecate's attention. Tekka and the Terrans sat down, turning their chairs to face the door. A minute later, the door opened, revealing Emperor Valerian and a marine carrying a large box.

"Good morning." Valerian said casually. Those who sat stood up, and the crew of the Explorer bowed in unison. They also noticed that he had a small bundle of papers in his hand. "I was told that you recruited two Terrans into your crew, but I never would have guessed that you picked up these two celebrities."

"... Celebrities?" Nabiros asked, completely unfamiliar with the word. Valerie and Konrad shuffled awkwardly. The marine quickly put the box on the middle of the "U" shaped table and left.

"They didn't tell you?" Valerian raised his eyebrow as he walked before the screen. "Ms. Jacobson's articles and series are quite famous, partially because of the truth they contain, partially because of the trouble they stirred. Mr. Walters is a veteran among veterans in the mercenary community, and respected even among the military by those who are old enough to have heard about him, not to mention the interviews Ms. Jacobson did with Mr. Walters. As a team, they are also known to be almost criminal in their pursuit of what they believe is the truth." Valerian's expression was impossible to read, though Nabiros' advanced optics allowed him to guess that he was hiding anger of some sort. "Fate had been kind to them, they got out at least alive from what they got themselves into. However, their last stunt had a rather... unexpected reception by the public they wished to inform." Valerian waited a few moments to see if either of the two would pick up the story, but with both staring at theif feet in shame he continued. "They began investigating the Moebius Foundation after Raynor's Raiders found their first Xel'naga artifact fragment. They eventually pulled together an impressive amount of information and proof of my involvement with the Foundation, as well as the extent of it. This by itself wasn't worth much but when Moebius Corp went rogue, they wrote a rather provocative article, where they all but accused me of using Raynor and Kerrigan to forcefully remove my father from power, along with all his supporters, and take control of the Dominion for my own - based entirely on the assumption that the apple doesn't fall far from its tree." Valerian looked at Valerie for a few seconds, trying to establish eye contact, but met no success. "Fortunately for me, they were seen as hatemonger journalists who don't care for the consequences of their work. People believe what they see, what they experience. They saw me evacuating Augustgrad when Kerrigan invaded Korhal, and they saw me bring order to the chaos left by Moebius Corp after they were routed by Artanis." he turned to Nabiros. "Do you still wish to recruit them?"

The Purifier thought for a long second before replying. "I was aware of their lack of loyatly to you, that they acted on it, failed, and suffered the consequences, but they were less than honest in the details, it seems." Valerie collapsed on her chair, Konrad looked mortified. "But it would be hypocritical of me to claim that I am any better. If not for the mercy and understanding that Hierarch Artanis showed me not long ago, I would have been executed for my beliefs. You could have punished them in any way you wanted, but instead you let them suffer the consequences of their actions, which is mercy, even if it is painful. It also shows that you understand why they believed what they did. Therefore, I have no right to judge them since the highest authority of their people decided not to. Another important truth revealed by your words is that they are excellent at taking risks, though there certainly is room to improve, but then I am not without fault either." Nabiros walked to the two Terrans and put his hand on their shoulders. "As a result of the aforementioned points, now I want them more than ever before. I need people of virtue and reason to be ready to question my every thought and every decision, and they fit that description admirably."

Valerie collapsed on the table and Konrad fell into his chair in relief. Valerian looked amused but not surprised. "Very well. Let us begin, then." he motioned his audience to take their seats, who quickly did so. "That box you see there were the reports my advisors and I went through to find problems that requires your particular talents. Somewhat fortunately, the vast majority of them are small pockets of disorder in various parts of colonies and cities across the core worlds, as well as a score of damage reports and supply shortages. We could obviously use some assistance with any of those, but they are managable, especially knowing that the Hierarch will send aid three months from now." He lifted the papers he was holding. "These, however, are exactly the kind of problems we do not want to deal with right now, or preferably never. Three of them are social issues that could quickly escalate into civil unrest, and one of them threatens the lives of millions. Which one would you like to hear?" he asked casually.

His crew already knew what Nabiros would say. "All of them."

Amused again but still not surprised, Valerian walked to Nabiros and put four small bundles of paper before him. "I wish I had the time to go into detail about each, but time is short, so I will be brief." he pointed at the leftmost bundle. "The first is simple to explain but very hard to solve. We have lost contact with the Dylarian Shipyards eleven days ago. Reports indicate that it has been hit by a hybrid who brought enough Zerg with it to infest the entire shipyard. Normally, we would bombard the area until a ground force could safely clean up the place. However, we need that shipyard intact. Our infrastructure is in bad enough shape as it is, so it is imperative that we retake the Dylarian Shipyards in the best possible condition. The good news is that there were relatively few people there after the Golden Armada under Amon's control ravaged the sector. The bad news is that there is a hybrid with a small Zerg army."

Nabiros picked up the bundle of papers and pushed it across the table to the Archon. "This should prove a challenge. Next?"

Valerian eyes widened a little in surprise but he continued. "The next three are all posthumanist issues. I can't explain what that is right now, so make sure to research it. In short, we have a growing religious movement dedicated to Kerrigan, a small but well organised school who believe that embracing our psionic gifts and submitting ourselves to the Protoss as students is the only way to achieve a more enlightened state of being, and finally a small army of people who want to become entirely mechanical because nothing short of that could ensure humanity's survival."

"And I thought the Tal'darim had crippling world view issues." Tekka blurted out.

Hecate nudged Nabiros. " **We want to report this to the Executor Council in person once it is dealt with, we want to experience their reaction.** _The Daelaam just became an almost peaceful gathering of likeminded people._ This is exactly why we tagged along, reality is always a thousand times stranger than imagination."

Nabiros took control of the situation before more comments trickled in. "With Hecate out of calculation, Tekka is our foremost expert on psionics, as well as our best diplomat. However, she would require an... insider perspective, shall we say, so I delegate this task to her and Valerie. Konrad and I can handle the machine-maniacs, it shouldn't be too difficult. The Kerrigan cult is..." he seemed at a loss how to express his feelings on the subject. "... while understandable, given the circumstances, it is also beyond our abilities to solve, although I do have a recommendation." he looked at Valerian appraisingly for a few moments. "Is it correct to assume that our main goal is to convince each group to cooperate with the Terran Dominion at least until the rebuilding efforts are over?"

"Yes." Valerian nodded hesitantly, unsure where the Purifier was going with this.

"Then you could handle the Kerrigan cult by yourself." Nabiros said bluntly. "You have known her personally, an advantage that few possess, and I doubt that any in the cult have that kind of experience. You could tell them that as someone who is familiar with the person they worship, you believe that she would be less than pleased if they spread discord instead of helping those in need. You could promise that you would make an attempt to discuss this with Broodmother Zagara, since for all you know, the Zerg might have the same idea in mind."

Valerian looked him in the eye (as much as the visor allowed anyway), thinking, then he laughed. "Now I understand why you need others to warn you of the wisdom of your plans. It is quite the shameless plan, but not without merit. Very well, I will speak to them myself." he turned to the rest of the crew, looking each in the eye for a moment (the Archon noted with a tiny giggle that they got 3). "I am eager to hear your reports when you have completed your missions. If all goes as well as it could, we will meet here two days from now. That is when I will have some time to spare on you, as much as I wish it were otherwise. Best of luck to you." he waved them goodbye then left the room in such a hurry that his audience barely had time to stand up and bow.

Once the door closed behind him, Valerie turned to Nabiros. "First of all, I would like to say that I'm sorry that I wasn't completely honest with you about our background. Secondly, we're really, really thankful for your faith in us and your support. And lastly, to be true to myself, is it wise to send Hecate alone against a small army lead by a hybrid?"

"As long as you remember that complete honesty is always preferable to partial honesty, it is forgiven." something in his voice made Valerie flinch. "I would be the worst captain in history if I did not have faith in my crew. About the last topic, I'm not entirely sure myself that it wise, but that is precisely why I'm doing it anyway. Even Hecate doesn't know what it is capable of, so a stress test like this would be highly educational. It could go two ways: either it can handle it, which would be absolutely amazing, or it can't, which would be perfectly reasonable. We can always leave our social missions for a while to help Hecate. Then again, as it has been established, I have faith in my crew, so I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever that Hecate will emerge victorious, and probably more powerful than before."

" **Normally, we would murder anyone who supported a Dark Archon on principle.** " Hecate said, the female choir sounding like each member had a slightly different feeling on the matter. " **But we are we, more than any Dark Archon ever managed to become, so instead we thank you for your high opinion of us.** "

"Ummm... what's a Dark Archon?" Konrad asked, looking at Valerie for help but she shook her head and shrugged, as much in the dark as he was. The Archon just turned to them and glared silently.

"You should be thankful, Hecate." Tekka nudged the Archon where its ribs should have been. "The Nerazim did an amazingly good job at hiding the sordid details of their own Archons from the Terrans. It's not like the Terrans had a lot of information to work with in the first place, given the destructive behaviours of both kinds of Archons."

" **That is quite the surprise.** " the Archon's stance relaxed, and took the two Terrans under its arms as they all left the room. " **Then it is time for you to learn of the horror that is a Dark Archon. You must forever keep that knowledge to yourselves, however, for the knowledge itself drove better minds than yours into insanity.** _We are being theatrical, it's not that bad._ It's even worse than that."

"It can't be worse than my sister's poetry." Konrad noted with disgust.

"Uuugh..." Valerie shivered.

Hecate assumed bravado but felt none. It laughed inside: it was too old to leave a challenge unanswered.


	15. Chapter 15 Part 1

Reminder: **main head is bold** , _left head is italic_ , right head is normal. 

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.28

 **Location:** Dylarian Shipyards  
 **Time:** Evening

"Are you serious?" the dropship pilot asked.

" **Yes we are.** " Hecate replied. " **Lower the ramp, we will drop down from here.** "

"But we're in space, goddamnit!" the man shouted.

" **We are aware. Now open the ramp, or we will open it ourselves, which may or may not compromise your ship's hull.** "

"Fuck this shit." the pilot swore and pressed a few buttons.

When the ramp was halfway open, Hecate surged forward into the empty void. Behind it, the dropship pulled its ramp up and boosted away. Beneath it were the vast stretches of the orbital platform that housed the Dylarian Shipyards. It would have been an orderly piece of crude architecture, if not for the aethetically revolting Zerg infestation that crawled over half of it. In that moment of stillness, a thought occured to the Archon.

"You people do remember that we are scholars, not warriors, right? While everyone else has the luxury to forget about that I don't think we do."

" _You're saying that as if we were not a horribly powerful psychic entity._ "

"So is that hybrid down there."

" _But we grew up in the shadow of greater people, unlike that abomination. That thing just pranced around squashing poor Terrans for Adun knows how long, and the only humbling it ever got was when Amon died._ "

"Twice."

" _Point is, we are incomparably more cunning and devious than that filthy poser._ "

" **We will go with the plan we agreed on. Caution is advised, but fear only invites defeat.** "

The internal discussion lasted only for a fraction of a second. The Archon raised its arms, and crackling red lightning wrapped itself around it, then intensified, becoming a small crimson star of barely contained energy. It bolted down suddenly, crashing into a dense gathering of infested below, releasing a large shockwave that whipped across the surface like a million searing-hot blades, burning and shredding everything caught in the explosion.

" _Radiant entry: check._ "

With various bits of organic matter lying around offering no resistance, Hecate cut open a nearby blast door using its cannon arm. In a minute, it entered the control station of the platform. Naturally, the interior was filled with all sorts of fleshy things that seemed rather upset. The cannon reached forward and vomited purple flames that washed through the entire breadth of the corridors, leaving nothing behind but peace and quiet. There was a reason it is called "void energy" after all. Upon reaching the control hub, Hecate looked for a particular console, the one that the lovely red maned technician lady back on the Avalanche described a few hours ago. There, the Archon commanded the primitive systems of the platform to flush out all oxygen, and open all doors except the most exterior ones. No need to litter space with disgusting infested Terrans, they only had to die in a timely fashion.

" _Delivering mercy to those in need: check._ "

As expected, this particular move upset the bowels of this place, and Hecate could sense a thick trickle of Zerg rushing to the control hub. However, the hybrid did not move from its original location. Not surprised but absolutely disappointed, Hecate attacked the hybrid's psychic link that allowed it to command its Zerg escort (because calling that an army would have offended all armies across the vast expanses of time. To the Archon's relief, it could not win a decisive victory in this proxy war of minds, but as more and more Zerg minds flickered into nothingness, Hecate succeeded in winning the practical battle. This, at last, managed to rouse the hybrid's ire, who marched upwards to the control hub.

" _Taunt the foolish: check._ "

As per Emperor Valerian's wishes, Hecate hurried out of the building from whence it came, so that the destruction of their duel would cause damage that could have been avoided. Others might have said that it was absolutely not a duel, but those sad specimens have never seen Nerazim duels.

The hybrid turned out to be the destroyer variant, which was a mix of relief and disappointment for Hecate. Relief because it wasn't a dominator, disappointment because it wasn't a dominator. Alas, this would have to suffice. Hecate greeted its opponent with a hail of shots of the mildly harmful variety, and as expected, they plinked off its shields. The hybrid roared like some unwashed Terran soldier swimming in combat stimms and shot a psychic bolt at Hecate - or rather, where Hecate was before it blinked away. Further infuriated, the hybrid kept shooting bolt after bolt, but to no avail: Hecate could sense the build-up of energy within the hybrid before the shot, so it needed only blink away into cover, in case the hybrid caught up to the game it was playing.

Knowing that its own void cannon would not work for similar reasons (though there were doubts about the hybrid's ability to teleport and its shield's breakpoint), and that any other decisive move would require set up time, Hecate began assaulting the hybrid's senses. Soon, the hybrid was shooting at ghosts. Suddenly, it spun around, facing Hecate who hid behind a wall as it prepared the surprise it planned. It charged up its bolt this time then let it loose. The bolt penetrated a large patch of the wall and hit Hecate, but the charge-up was warning enough to prepare its shields, leaving it unharmed. The hybrid took a moment to peer through the veil of pandemonium to check if it was not hallucinating this time - which inadvertently gave Hecate enough time to finish its present.

First, a wave of energy shot out from Hecate to the hybrid, its presence made visible only by the momentary rippling of space as it passed, disrupting the hybrid's grasp on the gravity anchor that allowed it to move freely in outer space. Then, with a sound like cracking thunder, a kinetic explosion ripped a hole into the platform's surface, and sent the hybrid flying into the void. Noticing that the hybrid took swift control of its flight, Hecate rooted itself in place, reached out with its black hand, and channeled raw kinetic waves toward the hybrid, who became a swiftly spinning bullet of bruised ego. Forced to focus on its shields to survive the brutal barrage, the hybrid couldn't spare a though on its flight, or where it was for that matter.

The battlecruiser Avalanche's cannons opened fire, swiftly turning the hybrid into a thin mist of offended matter.

" _Practice until partner's expiration: checked._ "

"Overwhelmed by disappointment: checked."

" _That wasn't part of the plan but I understand how you feel._ "

" **We are all terribly disappointed. We agreed to start with this trick precisely because it is not something a "harbinger of doom" should fall for.** "

"It has to be said, however, that these abominations were deployed in large groups and with a tide of supporting void beasts. Excelling in one-on-one fights with weird people like us was never its calling."

" **Stop being reasonable when we are feeling cheated and lied to.** "

" _We can always vent our frustration on the remaining organic matter left on the platform._ "

" **That is less than exciting... but it is at least gratifying, even if only just a tiny, tiny bit.** **Off we go then.** " 

* * *

Aboard the Avalanche, the bridge was silent, as the Terrans watched the Archon disappear in the fortified control tower.

One of the ensigns monitoring the sensor readouts coughed politely before speaking. "Sir, I'm reading an orb of void energy slowly passing through the interior of the tower. While it messes with our sensors, so far it leaves no organic matter behind. At this speed, the Archon will clean the entire platform in approximately fourteen hours."

"I'm so glad it's on our side." the helmsman blurted out. "I've seen a lot of shit but there's nothing as terrifying as the combination of overwhelming psionic power and imagination."

"That was what made the old Queen of Blades such a horror to face." the captain agreed. "But she was... efficient, in her creativity. This is outright humiliating, what the Archon did to that hybrid."

"The way I see it captain, we just got back our biggest shipyard and paid nothing for it." Lt. Tailor said in a slightly scolding tone.

"There's that, I suppose." the captain nodded. "Still, I'm not looking forward to writing my report to the Emperor. My only comfort is that I have witnesses and sensor logs to support my claim that our Archon played golf with a hybrid destroyer."


	16. Chapter 15 Part 2

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.28

 **Location:** Valhalla, Iron Shelter  
 **Time:** Evening

"Are you sure you want to go down there?" Konrad asked, sounding a little worried. He felt a little silly in the dropship's harness while the Purifier stood next to him, as if completely unaffected by the gravity that tried to knock him off his feet as the pilot weaved around some obstacles.

"Of course." Nabiros assured him with an enthusiasm that was absolutely not that. "Being a Purifier has never been studied, so in a sense we know just as much about sapient inorganic life as you do. Using that perspective, the people down there are exactly the kind I want to discuss this with."

"Just uhm... Just be cautious, alright?" Konrad saw that there was no way he could explain the situation to his new captain. "Listen to what they have to say and don't get upset by whatever you're gonna hear."

"A fair warning." Nabiros nodded, much to Konrad's relief. They barely felt the ship landing. "That was unusually smooth." he blurted out.

"It's like the guy knows how to fly, eh?" Konrad said somewhat mockingly.

"That seems to be the case." Nabiros didn't pay attention to his new crewmember's tone. "Let's see what we have here."

The phase-smith's research revealed quite a cache of interesting information. Valhalla was a military industrial complex as well as a research center, its many cities housing some of the Dominion's best engineers and scientists, as well as a score of simply very good ones and military personnel. This was where the legendary Odin warmachine was conceived and constructed, and while Nabiros thought it lacked finesse and even basic sophistication, he had to admit that the smaller variants, the Thors were formidable on the battlefield. It was a true counterpart of the Colossus, the two giants' contrast representing that of their creator species.

However, the Golden Armada invaded this planet as well, and while it was less than thorough, it crippled the infrastructure to the point where it was as good as non-existant for the Dominion. The planet was a core world, however, and even superficial scans revealed survivors and enough facilities intact that a salvage and repair effort could be mounted to save who and what could be saved, and then reintegrated into the Dominion. This is where the posthumanists, as Emperor Valerian called them, put the entire investment at risk.

The Iron Front, as they called themselves, demanded a full-scale militarisation of Terran society, using technology to turn humanity into a more effective war machine that could survive the onslaught of the Zerg and the Protoss, who, they believed, were sure to return to their genocidal ways once they were done licking their wounds. They denied compliance with Dominion authority until their proposed changes were made law. Naturally, Valerian had no intention to agree to their demands, and would rather see the valhallan people brought back into the fold peacefully. Additionally, espionage revealed that there is only a small hard core that truly believes in the Iron Front's agenda, the vast majority are tech-enthusiasts, xenophobes, and scared people. Nabiros guessed that should he fail, Emperor Valerian would have no choice but to send in ghost agents to assassinate the leadership and then deal with the rebels with decisive military force. Or maybe not, since the young leader proved himself to be resourceful and determined in diplomacy as well as war, and Nabiros was well aware of his dismal social skills. That was precisely why he thought that he could convince the Iron Front leadership to rethink their position.

Their dropship landed a kilometer away from the Iron Shelter, the main refuge of the survivors and the occasional off-worlder supporter (apparently Terrans liked untimely squabbling just as much as the Protoss), which they reached by a rather indirect route, as specified by the Iron Front representative, who wanted to deny the Dominion using a "peace envoy" to use as a decoy to infiltrate troops into their fortified positions. Nabiros thought that this was a smart move, although dangerously provocative, considering that there was a battlecruiser in orbit, which could easily bombard their meagre shelter to dust. He had no idea how the stranded Terrans dared to behave like this but he chalked it up to the sheer inferiority of Terran society and culture.

"I was hoping for a ride in." Konrad said, looking around the valley they landed in. He pointed forward at the lights of the shelter. "They could blow us sky-high from there, you know."

"Assuming that scrap heap will not collapse from the recoil." Nabiros remarked dismissively. "You will see what I mean when we get close enough."

"Yeah, I see what you mean." Konrad said after a few seconds. Even without a suit to augment his vision, he could see that the shelter really looked like a scrap heap, as if someone welded together whatever parts he could find to create a place protected from the elements at least, if not from anything more serious than that. Its walls were of minor interest, mainly because of several gun placements (which were really just random big guns mounted on the wall) and the gate that could allow a siege tank passage at most. "This place looks bad. I've no idea why the folks here feel so clingy about it."

"I also suspect an unreasonable level of emotional investment, as well as a complete disregard of basic facts and dignity." Nabiros nodded in agreement.

"I don't like that mix, it never ends well." Konrad said, a little worried and saddened by the survivors' attitude.

"Noted. This is the plan." Nabiros slowed his steps so he had time to explain before reaching the gate. "I will focus on the negotiations, while you gather whatever information you can, however you can, as fast as you can, as covertly as you can. I'm guessing that these people have a limited supply of very important items, and that the Iron Front does not have the support it claims to have. I'm not relying on specific piece of information, but any advantage would increase the likelihood of a peaceful resolution."

"And if talks don't work?" Konrad asked.

"Then I will start killing the leaders until the rest obey." Nabiros shrugged. "It's still friendly by my standards, and maybe even legal by Terran law. Besides, I never had a good fight since the Void."

Konrad started sweating a little, noting with considerably concern that his captain would gladly take on everyone still alive here, unsure if the attitude was well-founded or just empty bravado. He wasn't sure which one he would have preferred. "Let's just focus on getting the talks right then, okay?"

"That is my aim." Nabiros nodded. "Do you have any questions?"

"No, I'm good, let's go."

Moments later they were within a dozen meters of the gate when a voice rang from the wall above it, hidden behind a spotlight aimed at them, along with every gun on the wall. "What is a Protoss doing here?" a male voice asked angrily. "You there, are you the envoy?"

"Yes, I am." Nabiros' voice boomed in the valley, amplified for practical as well as dramatic effect. "I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers. This is Konrad Walters, my engineer. We have come on behalf of Emperor Valerian to negotiate."

"So little Mengsk made a pact with the Protoss?" the voice laughed. "How pitiful. It seems we are the only ones who resist the clutch of the alien."

"The only thing you seem capable to resist is rain and common sense." Konrad muttered to himself. Nabiros couldn't help but chuckle.

"Your opinion has been noted." Nabiros said with apparent disinterest in said opinion. "Let us pass so we may talk in a more appropriate setting."

"I'm not letting Protoss in my home!" the voice shouted. "This planet was our home until your fleet came and destroyed the place! But we survived, and we live on to avenge the fallen!"

"Oh please." Nabiros forgot that these people were 'out of the loop', so to speak. "The fleet that attacked this planet was loyal to Amon, the fallen Xel'naga, not to the Daelaam."

"Protoss lies!" the man interrupted. "Why should I believe anything you have to say?"

"Because there is a Terran battlecruiser in orbit ready to bombard this valley until it turns into a lakebed." Nabiros retorded angrily, having lost what little patience he had. "If not for Emperor Valerian's specific command to resolve this situation peacefully, I would have layed siege to your derelict slum myself. I haven't fought void-beasts and hybrids to parley with a cranially inactive sack of meat! Now either you come to your senses, or find someone more civil!"

Konrad stood a few steps away, clutching his ears, looking a little annoyed. On the wall, the guns and spotlights wavered, and Nabiros could hear chatter. Suddenly, a scream, then a man's body landed before the gates with a crack that promised a swift if shocking end.

"We do not want to die." a calm, probably female voice shouted from behind the spotlight where the fallen man was before. "We only want to survive. The preacher is dead, thank god. Could we start the negotiations?"

Nabiros relaxed his fists that he must have clenched in his outburst. "We could."

"We will open the gate now." the woman sounded tense. "We keep it cool and civil, okay?"

"That is my wish as well." Nabiros nodded, placated by the sudden increase in common sense and courtesy from the new spokesperson. 

* * *

Few minutes later, Nabiros stood before several hundred Terrans, standing on a relatively flat scrap heap. Next to him stood Professor Emily Steward, highest ranking Dominion officer in the Iron Shelter, as well as the head of the Iron Front. She was a tall, thin woman, her blonde hair in a tight ponytail, her dark brown eyes unreadable for the Purifier except for the flickers of ambition and cunning every now and then. She still wore her lab coat but its pure white has since turned a motely grey, and it seemed that she wore it with pride.

"Brothers and sisters!" Emily addressed the assembled refugees. "Emperor Valerian has sent an envoy to negotiate with us. We will listen to his offer and discuss it amongst ourselves after." she turned to Nabiros. "The floor is yours." and stepped back.

"I bring no offer from Emperor Valerian, only a reminder of your duty to your own people." Nabiros said bluntly. The crowd moaned in annoyance almost collectively. "I know that many of you view the alien as the greatest threat to your people. I know that you seek ascension and survival within the machine. I know that you know nothing of the war that briefly visited you. I have come to educate you on these issues, in chronological order."

Nabiros placed a small, triangular object on the ground of obvious Protoss design with one of his mechanical tendrils, namely a holographic projector, and stepped away a little. The projector came alive, the air above it filled with a scene of a battle between the Daelaam and Amon's minions on Aiur.

"After much hardship, Hierarch Artanis, leader of the Daelaam, the united factions of the Protoss, fought to retake Aiur from the fallen Xel'naga, Amon, who intended to destroy all creation." the scene shifted to the carcass of the Overmind. "There, the Fallen One sought to forge a host body for himself, an abomination made of the flesh of captured Protoss and the remains of the Overmind." the crowd muttered in horror at the sight of Amon's host body. "With determination and the sacrifice of many, we destroyed the void shards protecting Amon, and obliterated him." the crowd went silent in a mix of horror and awe as they saw the combined firepower of the entire Protoss armada fall upon the monstrosity. "But this was not the end of our struggle."

The projection flickered for a moment, then revealed a fortified Protoss position atop a hill, amidst the ruins of some old Protoss city, surrounded on all sides by Zerg beyond count. "We made our stand against Amon's brood in our plan to deal the final blow to the Fallen One that would rid us of its thirst for destruction." suddenly, Protoss warships emerged in orbit, en route to the fortified position of the Daelaam. "Amon corrupted much of our people, including the Golden Armada, which he called back to defend himself, but we managed to delay their return. However, once they arrived they fell upon us with wild abandon." the scene turned into chaos as projectives flew and explosions happened everywhere. "The battle was hard but we endured. The fate of our people hung in the balance." suddenly, a blue orb of energy expanded outwards from the Daelaam position, then fell back on itself, drawing red wisps beyond count with it from the corrupted Protoss. Soon after, a red pillar of crackling energy shot into the sky from the same place. Nabiros wished he had audio as well, Amon's shout of impotent rage always brightened his mood. "Using an ancient Xel'naga device that was unfortunately lost in the attempt, we removed the corruption of Amon from out brothers and sisters, and banished the Fallen One into the Void." relief washed through the crowd, and Nabiros wasted no time to crush it. "But this was still not the end of our struggle."

Relief turned into pained, hopeful disbelief in his audience. Nabiros would have smiled if he could. "Amon yet lived in the Void, and so the united armies of the Daelaam, the Terran Dominion, and the Zerg Swarm ventured into the Void to bring a final, permanent end to the threat it posed to all that lived." the projection flickered again, this time showing a dark, hellish landscape, crawling with shadowy entities. "In the Void, we found a captive Xel'naga. We freed it, and in hopes of defeating Amon, it sacrificed its essence to the Queen of Blades, turning her into a Xel'naga. Thus empowered, we brought the fight directly to the Fallen One." the scene shifted to a vast battle on dead rock surrounding the immense form of the dark god. Amidst the fighting, a glowing form could be seen, like a small sun, that cut through the void creatures with almost divine momentum. "After the fiercest battle of our time, the void shards fuelling Amon's power were shattered, and he himself was slain by the ascended Queen of Blades." the scene exploded in what seemed pure sunlight. "We believe she sacrificed herself to do so but we have little experience with the science of the existence of such godlike beings."

The projector deactivated, and Nabiros moved in front of it. "This is the war that briefly visited your planet. As you can see, the Golden Armada, which would have turned this planet into molten debris otherwise, was called away from its march of destruction by the Daelaam. Does anyone else still believe that your fate is so bad in comparison, or that Terrans stand alone in the world?" looks of introspection, doubt, and confusion were all the answer he got. "Regarding the Zerg, the Queen of Blades relinquished control of the Swarm to her chief broodmother, Zagara. After the final battle's conclusion, all leaders agreed to a cessation of hostilities, the peace and quiet we all enjoy at this very moment. According to a well-learned friend of mine, even peace is a strong possibility." that started a wild muttering in the assembled Terrans, as hope and disbelief clashed in and among them. "However, there is still much to be done." Nabiros said, regaining the attention of the crowd as he stepped away from the projector that came alive again.

This time, it showed brief clips and kept repeating them in the same order. First, it showed the pirates Nabiros and his crew met on Tarrin V extorting the colonists for vespene. "Piracy reared its ugly head in this time of disorder and rebuilding." suddenly, the pirates were tazed and a Protoss wearing a simple robe and menacing gauntlets appeared in puff of ethereal smoke, talking with the colonists. "Naturally, we like them just as much as you, but to be sure, we left their fate in the hands of your judges." the projector now showed the battlecruiser Avalanche above the pirate base. "After we cleared out the pirates' nest, the Terran Dominion could establish its authority in the nearby systems that the pirates held hostage via a cruel web of interdependance of supplies. These colonists are now safe, but many more are still unprotected in Terran space." the projector deactivated, and Nabiros stepped before it again. "Three months from now, Hierarch Artanis will be ready to send what aid he can to the Terran Dominion, based on discussions with Emperor Valerian. Until then, my crew and I will assist in any way we can." Nabiros leaned forward. "What are **you** going to do?" he bowed slightly. "That is all. Thank you for your time." and he stepped back.

Professor Steward stepped in front of the crowd that immediately started discussing what they just heard. "We will discuss the envoy's words and prepare questions for him. Let's make this quick and be done with it in half an hour." she turned to Nabiros. "Nice speach. Visual presentation, upbeat tone, no threats, appealing to conscience... well done." then she left to join the others.

Nabiros stood motionless and commed Konrad. "What have you found so far?"

After a brief silence, Konrad responded. "Well, chief, they are well stocked but they have no means of producing the things they need. They are already rationing water and food but I doubt it could last much longer, especially since nobody had a shower in a very long time, and believe me people really don't want to endure more of that than they absolutely must. How are the talks going?"

"Promising, so far." Nabiros replied. "Join me, you have gathered all the information we need, and I cannot hide your absence much longer."

"Roger that."

A little over half an hour later Emily returned to find Konrad standing next to Nabiros, chatting about something. "Where has your friend been?" she asked.

"I needed a Terran perspective on the response of your people." Nabiros said bluntly. "While I do my best, I am still no expert of the Terran psyche."

"Few people are." she remarked. "We are ready with our questions. Are you ready to answer them?"

"Of course." Nabiros said confidently.

"Back to the stage, then." professor Steward gestured toward the faimilar scrap heap.

The three of them standing before the anxious crowd, the professor began. "What will happen to us if we comply?"

Nabiros looked at Konrad, who was taken by surprise that he has to talk. "Oh, um... Well, things will be back to normal, no hard feelings. You're all needed to get the planet's production back on track again, lots of folks need a lot of things all over the place. Prefab shelters, water purifiers, farming gear, all that stuff. Once you people are on your feet of course, you're the closest people in need and we don't have too many cargo ships either so fixing your own problems is kinda in the time table already."

Emily nodded, satisfied with the answer, and the audience were happy with it as well. "Alright, that's agreeable. What kind of aid can we expect from the Protoss?"

"Honestly, I'm not quite sure myself." Nabiros shrugged. "I'm not familiar with what people across Terran space require. I'm guessing clean water and raw materials, maybe the occasional raid on pirates, feral Zerg, and hybrid hideouts. It is up to Emperor Valerian and Hierarch Artanis."

"Fair enough." Emily nodded again. "Why did your friend say that peace is possible with the Zerg?"

Nabiros looked around for a moment before answering. "So far we have had no contact with the Zerg Swarm. There is no point in discussing this until after our first communication with them."

"You're dodging the question." the professor said pointedly.

"I would rather not spread unconfirmed ideas irresponsibly." Nabiros said carefully. "However, once you are reconnected to the Terran news networks, I'm sure you will hear news of it soon. I doubt the wisdom in postponing discussing the future of the sector with the Zerg. They have new leadership, one that is vastly different than any before, and definitely more social. There is a chance. We will see what comes of it."

The professor considered it for a moment. "Not what I would have liked to hear but I understand your reasoning. No need for false hopes, eh? On to our last question. You said previously that you are aware that a lot of the people here are in favour of cybernetics, though those weren't your words exactly. That was the only topic you did not address. Care to do that now?"

"What's the point?" Nabiros asked and gestured at Konrad. "He is the living proof that cybernetics don't make someone more or less than what he was. I myself and wholly inorganic, and yet just as much of a person as any of you. What you wish for is misguided, but the journey will prove educational, much like for my own people. There is no sense in warning you of the mistakes you could make on the way or to support you. That would only rob you of invaluable experience, one of the few true treasures of the world, and that would be a crime, wouldn't it?"

"That was the most inspiring disappointing answer I ever heard." Emily deadpanned, then turned to the audience. "Based on what you have heared, who among you wishes to return to the Dominion?"

Almost all hands sprung up immediately, and none of them cared about the rest. 

* * *

"That's it?" Nabiros asked Emily not long after the public vote, in Emily's tiny hut. "Are you giving up on your cause so easily?"

"Dead people serve no causes." Emily laughed, a little mockingly. "Besides, this whole thing was a sham."

Seeing Nabiros tilt his head slightly, Konrad helped him out. "A sham is a lie, a scheme to mislead. I don't know what she means by that though."

Emily leaned forward. "Look, I just told people what they wanted to hear, appealed to their hopes and fears, and got them to get things done. You can't get anything done if people don't believe in something, if they don't believe they have a future worth working for."

"Hold on." Konrad put a hand up. "You're telling me you've manipulated these people with that whole Iron Front bullshit? Why? What for?"

"Have you tried to keep order among scared civvies?" she asked mockingly. "They knew we had supplies only for so long, and there is only so much you can scavenge, but they had to be kept in line. I had no grunts to intimidate them or force them into submission, so I put some inspiration in a chatty one's head and then he went off like a verbal nuke. I thought the whole thing would collapse on itself once the Dominion arrives, who would reach out to a core world sooner than a fringe world so it was only a matter of time, but it didn't, so I had to keep appearances up. Then the whole scene at the gate happened, I saw that a lot of the guards thought that the preacher was crazy, so I shoved him over the wall and saved us a truckload of trouble."

"You killed the guy?" Konrad asked in disbelief. "He was just some insane asshole, you could have knocked him out or something!"

"I had to convince you not to bombard this shithole, and I had to convince my men that a change of attitude is in order." Emily shrugged dismissively. "I sold a life to buy hundreds, and many more by extension of the aid we can provide to other shelters across this planet and others."

Konrad sighed angrily, burying his face in his hands. "Yeah, guess you're right. It's hard to argue with the numbers when you put them like that."

"That's why I'm a scientist." she said, a tiny bit forgivingly. "People lie and mislead, numbers don't, and if you get them wrong it's your own bloody fault."

It was this conversation that demonstrated for Nabiros just how shattered the world Terrans live in could be, how arbitrary world views are due to the decisive weight of subjectivity in experiencing it in the first place, not to mention processing it. He concluded that the world is too vast to be described, and the person in it too subjective to even make the attempt, and therefore incapable of finding its place in it. Nabiros realised with a blazing shiver through his spine that his fate is truly his own, that he can build his place in the world, and find himself in turn.

He had never felt such certainty, peace, and joy before.


	17. Chapter 15 Part 3

No fever will stop me from releasing the last part of ch15 before the end of the year. Also, since we're talking, happy new year!

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.28

 **Location:** Korhal, Augustgrad  
 **Time:** Afternoon

Tekka and Valerie did their own research separately from Nabiros and Konrad, while Hecate just left without so much as finding out where the Dylarian Shipyards were. According to the ladies' briefing material, their target was in Augustgrad, so they didn't need to worry about off-world transportation, and they could borrow a computer from one of the many unused offices. They need not have said so, but they both felt all the missing staff from the palace: war's cruel benefit are the many job openings it creates, among others. Tekka sat on the table while Valerie worked her info-hunt magic on the computer.

"Should I be worried about Hecate?" she asked suddenly, still searching for mission-relevant information.

"Which part?" Tekka chuckled. "Them being a Dark Archon of unprecedented power, or if they can deal with a hybrid by themselves?"

"They remind me of cheeky grandparents in good health." she mused with a smile. "They use their freedom and life savings to travel around the world for shits and giggles, and when they get into trouble they get out with old people shenanigans." her smiled faded. "But then you can't help but remember that they are still old people, having little regard for their safety since there isn't much left anyway. They'd rather go out with a bang rather than rot away in bed."

Tekka took a moment to recall each phrase's meaning and thus make sense of what Valerie just said. "Protoss don't age them same way as Terrans, although I do recognise the phase you speak of. And remember, every bad idea has to go through twelve people who are tried and true scoundrels with a millenia!s worth of experience. Even if it's a bad idea they will still somehow succeed, or at least get out safe." she leant down a little to Valerie. "I'm more worried about the Terrans." Valerie was certain that Tekka was grinning, though it was hard to tell without a mouth. She understood her meaning and chuckled nonetheless.

"So what's between you and Nabiros?" she asked, scrolling through an article innocently.

Tekka raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't see that one coming." She straightened out and looked somewhere behind her Terran colleague. "He is a good friend and my captain." she turned back to Valerie. "Why do you ask?"

"You two just seemed to have a history, that's all." Valerie shrugged.

"You do know that I don't need to enter your mind to smell that you're being dishonest, right?" Tekka narrowed her eyes in disapproval.

"Damn, I wasn't even lying." Valerie laughed. "I miss exchanging gossip, and seeing how it's just us girls right now, I leapt at the opportunity." she looked up at Tekka, as if the thought had just occured to her. "Protoss women gossip too, right?"

Tekka exploded in laughter, so hard she was swinging around. She would have fallen off the table but she reflexively levitated, which made quite the spectacle. 'Rolling in the air laughing' is not something Valerie thought she'd ever think of, much less see. After a few more seconds, Tekka got back on her feet. "You got me off-guard twice in a row, that's quite the accomplishment."

"What can I say, it's my job." Valerie shrugged with a grin.

Tekka sat back on the table, this time a little closer, and even leant down a bit, like she was telling a secret. "It varies, but generally yes. The Tal'darim could not live without gossip as a people, and from what I've learned the Nerazim are very much alike in that regard, although to them it's more a game and less a part of survival. The Khalai missed out on the fun but they aren't really the kind who could enjoy themselves without Judicator approval."

Valerie chuckled. "The more I learn about you the more I think we're very much alike."

"You mean Protoss in general..." Tekka shot her a glare over her shoulder that sent a shiver down Valerie's spine. "... or me?"

Valerie's cool was shaken but not shattered. "Both, actually. We both like to know more, to explore, you know, that sort of thing."

Tekka leant closer and gently caressed the Terran's hair, her large gauntleted hand cupping her face, the strangely warm metal sending a second shiver through Valerie. The Tal'darim's gaze consumed her attention, until all she could see were two red orbs glowing with fiery passion. "I wonder... what else would you like to explore." Tekka said slowly, her voice a gentle but hot hum that seemed to echo in Valerie's bones.

"Do... do you wear that bleak robe because it's part of your job's dress code, or you just couldn't afford a better one?" Valerie blurted out. Her eyes immediately shot wide in panic, pulled back in her chair and covered her mouth with both hands.

Tekka just sat as she was, blinking. "And here I was trying to get even."

"I'm so sorry Tekka, I don't know what came over me..." Valerie sputtered an apology.

"I would apologise for going too far but I'm actually glad you asked." Tekka interrupted her. She straightened out and looked on the floor before her. "Both are true, even if not entirely." her eyes narrowed in remembrance. "Tal'darim librarians are a separate caste, creatures of necessity. Knowledge must be kept somewhere, but the vicious competition that is daily life does not allow conventional storage of actually valuable information. We do use archives but the information they contain is tangentially related at best to current power struggles, on any level of society. Instead, we use those who seem gifted with good memory and mental discipline as living libraries. Naturally, the likelihood of induction increases proportionally with the decrease of the power and standing of the family in question." Tekka was silent for a few moments, her professional detachment from the subject matter falling apart by the moment. "We are taken at a very young age, and trained by the older librarians. Slaves teaching slaves is never a gentle affair, as you can imagine. We are kept on a short leash for our minds to be cracked open again and again on demand. Most of us are barely more than walking tomes, their souls crushed in defeat." Tekka's eyes flickered angrily. "But then there are the better ones, those whose will is not broken by the almost daily mental abuse. Those of us are trained as assassins to become thieves of knowledge. Sometimes we leave our victim none the wiser. Other times there is only a smoking husk left."

"That must have been painful." Valerie spoke softly.

Tekka turned to her, her eyes boiling with anger, with a cruel smirk on her face. "Hate is an amazing anesthetic. It kept me alive through anything and everything. I became the best librarian." she laughed with malice. "Not because I was the best in a fight, or because I could hide better than anyone else. There were many others in many fields who were better than me." she turned her gaze a bit away from Valerie, as if looking at something behind her, her expression torn with pain. "But I killed them all. One by one, they fell before me. You know, if your opponent is better than you at the game then play something else until you find a game you're better at. Everyone can be bought, and everyone can be brought down... you just have to do your research."

"That's... that's horrible." Valerie said, entirely pale.

Tekka laughed briefly and humourlessly. "Do you regret joining now?"

"Whose librarian were you?." Valerie said off-handedly, completely taken in by Tekka's story, even if it horrified her.

"Good of you to ask, I almost forgot!" Tekka slipped from the table and started walking around like a caged animal. "Being the best meant that I belonged to the best, which of course meant Ma'lash, Highlord of the Tal'darim! But I outplayed him as well! He sent me to find out how much does Alarak know of Amon's true intentions, and I knew then and there that the so-called Blade of Amon would soon fall. I immediately departed before he could think of a reason to read my mind. When I found Alarak, he just lost to Artanis on Glacius, so my timing couldn't have been better. I declared my allegiance to him, and Alarak wasted no time to skim through my memories. He now knew all that I knew, though he already needed little more proof of his master's treachery and weakness." Tekka suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowed so tight they almost seemed closed. "I can still see Alarak as he pushed Ma'lash into the pit. It was... glorious."

"And a relief I bet." Valerie remarked.

The tension that seemed to shimmer around Tekka evaporated in an instant. Her expression turned from angry to sad and her shoulders sagged. "Yes... yes it was... for a moment. I was there when it happened, I watched it with my own eyes. It was a relief, yes... but it was not release. I was still a slave of another. I only traded one evil master for another. I realised that when we defeated Amon in the Void. I was still the property of someone else."

"But you left." Valerie noted.

"I have." Tekka shrugged, radiating pain suffered from futility. "Alarak gave everyone a chance to leave the Tal'darim and join the Daelaam. I took my chance and left."

"But leaving Alarak wasn't the same as leaving your past, wasn't it?" Valerie guessed, standing up from her chair and slowly walking towards Tekka.

Tekka seemed to shrink as she put her arms around herself, as if feeling cold. She shook her head in reply.

"And after that you met Nabiros, right?" Valerie asked, standing before her. Tekka nodded. "What happened?"

A smile flashed across Tekka's face for a moment, but it was immediately replaced by a pained expression. She didn't respond immediately, as if struggling to speak. "We met in the Void, actually. Fought side by side. I was the first Tal'darim he met and could talk to, and he was the first Purifier I met and I could talk to, so in between waves of void creatures, we took the time to chat. Death looming over you has a way of making you skip to the point. We shared our stories. Who we were, what kind of life we wanted after the war was over."

"Those are the best talks." Valerie nodded knowingly. "We had many talks like that with Konrad."

"After the war was over and I... left, I looked for him." Tekka continued, looking somewhere on the ground, reminiscing. "It was harder than I thought. I was told one day he just picked up his belongings and moved into one of the smaller ruined buildings on Aiur. He made quite scene apparently." Valerie chuckled, which brightened Tekka's mood a tiny bit. "It was good to see him again, being around him felt like home in ways I never knew it existed. We talked for days, and I realised why." Tekka was struggling for words. "He... he said he thought a lot about what we talked about in the Void, that... that he saw the many similarities between us. He said that we were... we were both tools to others, never people. He..." tears appeared in her eyes, and slowly rolled down her gentle face. "He said that there was one thing that made people stand apart from tools. Tools, he said, are forged... and that the forging is a painful process for the metal, and even when it is complete it is full of stress lines. But people, he said..." Tekka was now sobbing, her thin frame shaking. "While people are forged by others and themselves, they... they can choose to heal." Tekka fell to her knees, covering her face with her gauntleted hands. "But I can't..."

Valerie instinctively stepped to Tekka and hugged her, gently caressing the top of her head that was now at chest height. "Of course you can." she said softly. "You already have. You helped kill not only a Highlord, but Amon himself, and then you sealed your victory by leaving the Tal'darim behind forever. You're free."

Tekka fell silent for a few moments, only to wrap her arms around Valerie and sob uncontrollably. She cried and cried, but Valerie was there, her steady heartbeat a reassuring sound of stability, her warmth the intangible comfort everyone seeks but few find. Slowly, the tears abated, but they didn't let go of each other. Tekka had found peace when she helped reforge the Archon; now, she had found rest in putting her past behind her. At peace and rest, she could now begin healing like only people could.

* * *

Their research revealed that the group they were looking for, the Prometheus Society, had a longer history than Emperor Valerian or the briefing material implied. The Society was born during the first war, after the first few confirmed reports of Protoss psionic abilities trickled into the higer echelons of the then-Confederate leadership, and grew considerably after the Zerg hive mind's exitence was proven. Familiar with the average Terran attitude towards psionics, the Society kept itself relatively secret and more of a philosophical gathering than an actually active organisation, which was the chief reason why the Old Families did not see them as a threat. Not to mention that they had bigger issues to deal with.

The fall of the Confederacy and the Brood War put a dent in their numbers, but the increasing malleability of public opinion in face of the reality the aliens brought to their world, their core members turned from inactive high class to active middle class members: teachers at universities and academies, army majors, company owners and many more. While still maintaining a healthy distance from the wider public and publicity in general, they nonetheless quietly pushed Dominion politics toward a more practical, open, and humane approach to psionics. Emperor Arcturus did not see them as a threat, so he believed he could throw them a bone by allowing research into psionics in a non-military setting, using those psykers who were deemed unfit for the Ghost Program for one reason or another. This only meant access to the weakest psykers but the Society still viewed it as progress in the right direction.

The most recent war, however, crippled the Society, since most of it was housed on Korhal, which suffered the wrath of the Swarm first and then that of Amon. On the bright side, the more defining members and some of the psykers were saved by then-Prince Valerian's timely evactuation efforts and previously established secret underground hideouts in the deserts of Korhal. The Society was well informed, and they opted not to stay in their hideouts until they could be absolutely sure that the war was over. This saved many lives but their assets were still destroyed, forcing the leadership to change its strategy if it wanted to survive. After Korhal was secured with the help of Hierarch Artanis, the Society moved their base into Augustgrad, along with everything they had. They opened a small shelter, providing food and medical aid to those in the vicinity, and organised armed teams with a psyker guide to help them find survivors trapped in the ruins.

People were wary at first, but as more and more lives were saved from a slow and painful death by the psykers and their teams, the news took wing: psykers aren't so bad afterall. While this obviously did not lead to a 180 degree turn, it was an important step nonetheless. Emperor Valerian visited their shelter and commended their efforts, notably the psykers'. There was even a video of him shaking hands with each psyker, most of whom were between 12 and 16. Public opinion of psionics improved significantly, as people saw kids that looked and acted just like their own pitching in to help rebuild their world.

As months passed, the shelter was slowly transferred to a newly built school, its dormitory, and its open grounds where small, temporary prefab houses were assembled to provide lodging until proper living complexes could be constructed. The school became an important logistical node for other nearby shelters, with armed guards keeping peace and order and a diligent staff who helped where they could around the clock. The psykers were helping search teams 12 hours a day to find trapped or hiding survivors. The Society became one of the important supporters of the rebuilding, even if they were among the smaller ones.

Today, the Prometheus School of Psionics operates publicly, housing and teaching every psionically gifted individual who comes to their doorstep. While the more advanced equipment (mainly high-tech psionic and medical gear) is yet to be acquired, the school and the dormitories are still well equipped, and the school grounds were home to parks, playgrounds, and fields for various sports, instead of prefab shelters. With the relative re-establishment of the governement, the Prometheus Society spared no time to campaign against the forced recruitment of psykers into the Ghost Program, as well as the inhumane treatment of the operatives themselves. With the Dominion's tenuous hold on everything in its own space, many civilians and even people across the chain of command in the military were unsure how the currently cooperative ghosts will respond in the long run. The ghosts themselves were partially too jaded to take the initiative, but also had no idea what to do with what was going on. They were trained to kill on demand, not to represent themselves or to use social skills in general.

The reason they ended up on Emperor Valerian's to-do list was the increasing support they were getting, and their public goal to eventually settle down in Protoss space, or to convince the Dominion to become a 'student-state': it would retain its independance, obviously, but it would actively seek to study and adapt Protoss ways, with heavy focus on psionics and social structure. Knowing that the second was both unrealistic and long-term beyond their lifespans, the Society worked towards accumulating the support, resources, and ships necessary to even start negotiating with the Protoss. According to the briefing material, the Dominion's main issue with this was that they both wanted and needed all the support they could get, especially in areas like psionics, where the Prometheus Society had a monopoly in that field. They don't need people trickling away, they need them to live, work, and raise families in Terran space, so that the economy and the military could get back on its feet. They want to sort out the core worlds as fast as possible, then focus on the fringe worlds, and while a Terran colony in Protoss space did sound appealing, the Dominion leadership believed it was premature, even with Hierarch Artanis' friendly attitude towards the Dominion.

Valerie sent an email to the headmaster of the school, Joseph Altmeir, who seemed the main supporter of this particular idea in the Prometheus Society's leadership, asking for an appointment as soon as possible to 'provide a Protoss perspective', as well as the Terran Dominion's as Emperor Valerian's chosen envoys in the matter. The reply arrived in minutes, saying that they are free to visit at their earliest convenience, meaning 'as soon as possible'. Valerie arranged for a truck and a few armed soldiers for security (Tekka found the sight of unarmoured Terrans with their small guns hilarious)., just to be safe, since they were transporting a Protoss. They didn't want to waste their time on gawking people and random crowds wanting god knows what. Tekka's eyes glimmered with mischief multiple times but said nothing. Valerie found that immensely suspicious.

The trip to the school was uneventful, if sometimes bumpy. Fixing minor damages in the roads was far down in the list of priorities. The soldiers eyed Tekka warily (who got bored of it in minutes) but said or did nothing of note. They seemed glad that they can take it easy with a comfortable security detail promising relaxing tedium. Valerie could empathise with that from personal experience.

The truck parked near the entrance to the school grounds. Getting off, Valerie and Tekka were greeted by a short young woman, roughly 25, in a dirty orange overall, with a dirty grey bag slung over a shoulder. Her short hair looked like gold in the sunlight, and her eyes were a calm brown that seemed to take in every detail.

"Hi, I'm Sarah Redhill, I'll be your guide." the woman greeted them with a wave as they approached.

"Good afternoon, I'm Valerie Jacobson, and this is my colleague, Tekka." she introduced themselves. "We have an appointment with the headmaster."

"I can sense your physical presence but not your mind." Sarah said to Tekka, just barely noting what Valerie said with a nod. "Why is that?"

"I did not want to disrupt school life with my arrival." Tekka said, her tone indicating that she would have been irritated by the attention she would have got. "I get enough uneducated attention as it is."

"I can respect that." Sarah nodded. "Been there myself. Come on, I'll take you to the headmaster."

"Why would a gifted person such as yourself do menial work when you could do something more suitable to your talents?" Tekka asked as they walked through the school grounds.

"Just because I'm amazing at sex doesn't mean I should be a hooker." Sarah said bluntly with a shrug. "That's what my mom used to say all the time and she was right. I enjoy tinkering, fixing things, so that's what I do. Sure, the psychic bits come in handy but they don't define who I am, and they certainly don't make me better than the guy who makes my morning hotdog."

"That's a commendable approach to life." Valerie nodded.

"Did your mother pass on her talents to you or the machines have taken up the entirety of your interest?" Tekka asked provocatively.

"I never had sex with my mother so I wouldn't know." the woman deadpanned, nonplussed.

"That's one way to dodge the question." Tekka riposted.

"It's not like you have the stamina to find out." she laughed.

"Is that a challenge?" Tekka asked, a little surprised but much amused.

"You don't have to embarrass yourself, there's no shame in not committing to it." she said with mock understanding. "Besides, I don't think I have time to read the Protoss Kama Sutra."

"That is for the best, you would never enjoy sex with Terrans anymore after that." Tekka shrugged.

"I'm not sure if it would even work." Valerie mused out loud.

"I bet my job that I could make this cheeky 'toss squeal." Sarah said confidently. "She would even beg for more but she's the prideful type so she wouldn't even if it would drive her to masturbating daily to the memory of it."

Tekka laughed. "You're good, very good." she looked the woman over, as if appraising her seriously for the first time. "It would be rude of me not to accept now."

"That'd be some mean blue balling after this much foreplay." Sarah laughed.

"Could you please discuss this somewhere private?" Valerie asked, slightly irritated and very much embarrassed that the topic suddenly turned very serious from friendly verbal fencing. "Or at least not when I'm around?"

"And here I was hoping for a threesome." Sarah said with fake sadness.

"She's too romantic for that." Tekka consoled her. "She wouldn't have come anyway."

"See that's where you're wrong." Sarah said with a sly grin, and they both laughed. Valerie felt slightly worried but turned red completely nevertheless. Fortunately for her, they arrived before a wooden door with a small plaque indicating that the room belonged to the headmaster. "Nice talking to you, see you around!"

"Absolutely." Tekka waved with a grin.

"Bye." Valerie said quietly and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" a man's voice came from the other side. Tekka chuckled quietly. Valerie just rolled her eyes.

Entering the room, the duo saw a tastefully simplistic room, with a tall gentleman sitting behind a large wooden table, with two seats before it. The man was thin and old, his short hair and beard almost pure white. In his tuxedo, he seemed out of place in a city that was ruined not too long ago, his kind demeanour at odds with the horrors inflicted on his home.

"Ladies, welcome!" the man said with a wide smile, his voice booming in the small office. "I am Joseph Altmeir, proud headmaster of this school."

"I am Valerie Jacobson, and this is my colleague, Tekka." she introduced themselves with increasing routine. "We are here on behalf of Emperor Valerian Mengsk to discuss certain news he heard regarding the future plans of the Prometheus Society."

"I would gladly discuss it with you but I'm afraid I'm not the head of the Prometheus Society." the man said apologetically.

"We also know that you are the main supporter of the idea." Tekka said pointedly.

The headmaster's jovial attitude turned businesslike. "I was expecting a straightforward conversation but with a little more pleasantry in the beginning." he said with only a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Very well. Sit down, please, and tell me what our Emperor has to say about our goals."

Valerie sat down immediately, while Tekka eyed her seat before taking it, but it turned out to be just a little inconvenient instead of useless. "I am also curious why did he send a Tal'darim and a self-discredited journalist as envoys."

"I see you did your research on us." Valerie said with some displeasure in her voice.

"Nothing personal or specific, I assure you." the man said apologetically. "I am simply wondering why would anyone send people with a bad reputation for a social endeavour?"

"Someone who doesn't care much about our backgrounds if we can get the job done." Valerie replied honestly, recalling Nabiros' views on the subject.

"A pragmatic, then." the headmaster nodded. "What is the job that so needs doing?"

"Emperor Valerian would like the Prometheus Society to reevaluate its purpose in the Dominion." Tekka leant back in her chair and threw one of Nabiros' holo-projectors on the table. After landing, it showed clips of cities of the core worlds from both a ground and an orbital perspective. "What you can see here is not a sight quickly shared among your people, even within the Imperial Palace. As you can see, the Terran Dominion is far from secured, let alone rebuilding. Some core worlds still have pockets of resistence left, either Amon's leftover minions, of anarchist troublemakers trying to seize an opportunity for personal gain." the headmaster's expression turned slightly angry. "The fringe colonies have it even worse, even if death by starvation or plague are less dramatic."

"This is horrible." Altmeir said grimly, then raised his gaze from the projection to Tekka. "But I don't see what the Society's goals have to do with this."

"Directly, nothing." Valerie replied. "Indirectly, everything. From the average Terran's perspective, the Society is ditching its own people in favour of the Protoss in the aftermath of the most devastating war in history, right when every hand is needed yesterday to secure and to rebuild. It also feels like the psykers want to be with the other psykers, again instead of with the people they were born amongst. Emperor Valerian would like to avert the spread of feelings of suspicion, betrayal, and hatred to take root."

Before Altmeir could say anything in response, Tekka cut in. "However, he does see merit in your ideas. A colony in Daelaam space would allow a setting where Terrans and Protoss could improve our understanding of each other, foster better relations, and provide the basis of any further exchanges. This, the Emperor wants to accomplish as much as you. He only asks that you focus on your original goals and let him talk with Hierarch Artanis about the colony."

"Practically speaking, the Emperor wants the Society to focus on its own growth and original mission statement." Valerie continued the thought. "Once the colony becomes a project on the table, he will call upon you to see it through. You could say that instead of moving the Society to Daelaam space, you are expanding it there."

The headmaster raised a hand to stop them from convincing him any further. "I see why the two of you were sent here." Altmeir nodded with a smirk. "That was quite the presentation." he stood up and walked to the single window of his office, standing there silently for a few moments in contemplation. "Why should I trust him that he will not simply blame the Daelaam for not allowing the colony?"

"His Moebius Foundation background should be proof enough." Valerie snorted. "I should I know, I dug it up."

Altmeir laughed. "Yes, that is true. I really should have thought of that." he looked out the window for a few more moments, then returned to his seat. "Very well, ladies, I will do as our Emperor wishes. I will relay your words to my colleagues to the best of my ability. Before you leave, however, there is one question I would like to ask Ms. Jacobson, a sensitive one, if I may."

Tekka looked at Valerie with a raised eyebrow, who looked just as puzzled. "Alright, shoot."

"Have you met with Emperor Valerian since that article?" Altmeir asked, trying and failing to hide his excitement. "I've been a great admirer of your work and I've been hoping that there was room for reconciliation."

"Oh, that." Valerie looked surprised and relieved that this was the question and not something else. "We have. He sent us here personally, in fact. Well, he and Nabiros, our captain."

"That sounds like a Protoss name." Altmeir interrupted. "How come a Terran is under a Protoss' authority, especially on a ship, apparently?"

"You see, there are 5 of us, or 16, depending on how you look at it." Tekka leant in to explain. "Nabiros, our captain, is a Purifier phase-smith, if that means anything to you."

"I'm superficially familiar, yes." the headmaster nodded slowly. "Go on."

"I am second in command." Tekka continued. "By virtue of being the first to be recruited on his ship, the Explorer, a small vessel. There's also an Archon made up of 12 Nerazim scholars named Hecate by Emperor Valerian." the man's eyes went wide in surprise. "Yes, it is quite a unique being, even for us Protoss. And then we recently recruited Valerie and her other half, Konrad Walters, because, in the words of our captain, 'it would be criminally wasteful to let them rot in some colony or outpost doing nothing even remotely interesting'. We are currently helping the Terran Dominion in our humble ways. What happens after will be decided by the entire crew when we get there."

"Astonishing!" Altmeir slammed his hands on the table as he stood up and started walking around enthusiastically. "Incredible! This is amazing!" then he suddenly caught up with himself and set back in his chair, though his eyes still shined with energy and joy. "Ms. Jacobson, I can only hope that your journalist instincts are still functioning properly..." he looked at her pleadingly.

"Yes, yes." Valerie tried to assure him. "I do want to get a series of articles going once things calm down a bit and I can get everyone's approval. You know, when my brain is done processing the past and can start working with the present."

"Excellent, most excellent!" Altmeir drummed swiftly on his table with his fingers in happiness. "Make sure to remember that if you need any help with this, my door is always open."

"Thank you very much." Valerie said with a little blush, completely unused to such generosity. "However, if you have no other pressing matters to discuss, then..."

"Yes, yes, yes, I will not hold you from your work." Altmeir sprung from his seat and opened the door before they rose from their own. "It has been a genuine pleasure, ladies, I hope to see you again. If not in person, then on a screen."

"Thank you for your time." Tekka bowed slightly as she pushed a muttering Valerie out the door. "Farewell."

"Goodbye!" Altmeir waved after them and closed the door.

"Well that was odd." Tekka said, slightly confused. "Why did you get so flustered?"

"I don't know, I just..." she stopped and leant her back to the wall. "I'm really sensitive about that article because I never fucked up so hard like that before, nor after, and it made me sensitive about my readers as well, especially the ones that didn't call me a vile bitch." tears started rolling down her face. "I'm just... so glad that you and Nabiros picked us up on that shitty base, and... and that Valerian didn't want to skin me alive for that stupid article... and that my life is not ruined or defined by my biggest fuckup."

Tekka looked around the corridor, and once she confirmed it was empty, she stepped to Valerie and hugged her close. Valerie was surprised for a moment, but she buried her face in Tekka's robes and sobbed into them. Tekka gently caressed her back with her gauntleted hand. "That's because you think that article was your biggest mistake." Valerie looked at her in confusion. "Joining up with us was the one." Tekka said with fake seriousness.

Valerie burst out laughing, and Tekka soon followed suit. "Good thing that's less public then."

"For how long, I wonder?" Tekka asked slightly menacingly.

"Thanks for everything, Tekka." Valerie said, still cheerful but with a sudden seriousness about her, staring into Tekka's robes as she spoke. "You know, I'm not the type to trust, and with the Tal'darim being shady assholes most of the time and having a repertoire of nasty psychic shit I sorta wish I never found out about, I really couldn't tell if the way you act is genuine or you've just read my mind and found out which buttons to press." Valerie chuckled and looked Tekka in the eye, who looked back at her with wide eyes. "And boy, you're pressing all of them. I mean, I barely know you and I already consider you a friend. So take responsibility for that and don't fuck it up, okay?"

Tekka just looked at her for a second, then pulled Valerie back in the hug. "Just shut up." she said in a weird voice and caressed Valerie's head gently.

They stood like that for minutes, but to them it felt like hours, the kind of temporal eternity that happy moments in life are sometimes blessed with, the ones that stay with us forever, even if we can't recall the picture of it, for the true value is in the experience, something no mental picture frame and hold. It grows beyond itself, touching other memories and thoughts within us, shaping them, changing them. It is among the true wonders of existence, the kind that can only be built by people within other people, without choreography, without elaborate planning, but with purity of intention and in the flow of the moment. Such blessings are rare in life, a myth to those who never experienced it, a miracle to those who experience it for the first time.

Tekka never knew what a miracle really was until that day.


	18. Chapter 16

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.29

 **Location:** Korhal, streets of Augustgrad  
 **Time:** Late afternoon/Evening

"I never would have thought that patrol duty could be this exhausting." Tekka said as she sat down on a large rock.

"I guess it's all the telepathic noise you're exposed to." Valerie said, sitting down next to her in her rugged CMC-300 armour.

"That could be it." she nodded and closed her eyes to enjoy the last rays of Korhal's sun.

Yesterday went by uneventfully. After the duo finished their business with the headmaster, they went back to the Palace to find some work, where they were promised that they will have something ready by next morning. With nothing to do, they went back to the abandoned office they used earlier that day and read up on random subjects.

In the morning, they were assigned to patrol duty (they even had a spare suit of armour and a Gauss rifle for Valerie) through a particularly bad neighbourhood. Tekka was annoyed by it initially, but Valerie reminded her that they were asking for work and this is what they got, so she really shouldn't complain.

The man who gave them the job really wasn't exaggerating: apparently, some street gangs survived as well, and were taking control of parts of the prefab shelter blocks. There, they bullied everyone into submission, taking women and rations at will. After talking to the security officer in charge, Tekka and Valerie learned that they were severely undermanned to deal with the problem while maintaining order in other parts of the city, so they would be very happy if peace could be restored in that neighbourhood. They would even be willing to turn a blind eye to how it was achieved, as long as it wasn't too bad. Seeing Tekka's eyes light up, Valerie was worried if she could keep her in check.

What followed was a brief and brutal witch hunt. With Tekka's use of extremely intrusive psionic abilities (Valerie got scared for a moment when Tekka said 'I learned this from Hecate'), it was easy to find the offending gang members, as well as everyone else who exploited the situation. They rounded the 30-something gangers up in an open area, where they had a very loud argument about their fate before a rather large crowd. Tekka argued that they should be tortured and executed, so that the rest will learn the lesson. Valerie argued that Terrans don't do that, they put people in prison or forced recruitment via resocialization. Tekka replied by citing numerous instances of public burning at the stake, albeit in the distant past, but she said that 'it would give the Terrans some historical nostalgia'. 'Or public service', she said, 'we could turn them into paste and serve them as food, those rations look really bleak and I don't even eat', which drove the gangers into begging for their lives crying, sobbing, and screaming.

All that noise must have alerted someone important, because it was about this time that the security officer they talked to earlier that day showed up with 6 marines. He listened to the duo's report and he was more than happy to help solve their prisoner problem. He charged the captured gangers with theft, rape, and murder, and sentenced them to death. The marines opened fire, turning the bundle of screaming gangers into a pile of silent meat. Valerie stood speechless, while Tekka commended the officer for a job well done, and volunteered to guard the corpses until a truck came for them. The officer thanked them for their service and walked away. The truck came in a few minutes, its small crew putting the bits in plastic bags and cleaning up the general area with dissolver and antiseptic, then left. A few people came to them to thank them for helping them, some in tears for the justice they brought to a loved one who was killed by the gangers. Tekka was happy that for once they could kill the pirates, while Valerie was put off by the brutal simplicity the case was handled with. Talking to the families of victims did put it in a more reasonable perspective but she still felt that gunning them down like animals was injustice. Tekka decided it was best not to argue for once, and lead Valerie on a walk across the streets of the prefab shelter towns, until the adrenaline started wearing off and they had to sit down on a large rock that may have been part of a building once.

"It was good to stretch my legs, it's been awhile." Valerie stretched as much as the armour allowed.

"It wasn't bad." Tekka grudgingly agreed. "Still, it just left me anxious for more."

"More walking or killing?" Valerie asked.

"In that order, preferably." Tekka sighed as she flexed her hands. "I would hate to find myself out of practice."

"Do you know how Terran librarians work?" Valerie asked out of the blue, looking up at the sky.

"No."

"Before technology allowed information to be stored in computers, they were written in books." Valerie explained. "They are pieces of paper bound together, with the title and the writer indicated on the cover. Librarians were responsible to organise these on the many shelves of their library, and put them in alphabetical order. If the library was big enough, then by category as well. They would also make sure that visitors didn't misplace any of the books they were reading in the library, or the ones they borrowed."

"That sounds more like law enforcement work to me." Tekka chuckled. Suddenly, a shiver zapped through her spine. "Something is wrong."

"I think I know what." Valerie pointed up into the sky above them, where a rapidly growing red orb could be seen. "Shouldn't we be running?"

Tekka looked up at the orb and blinked. "No, that's Hecate. I wonder what is it doing here."

The red orb slowly decelarated and gently landed, causing gentle whirlwinds of sand to dance around briefly. The crackling orb dissipated, revealing the Dark Archon, Hecate. " **What are you two doing out here?** _And why are you in armour?_ "

"Did you jump out of your ship?" Tekka asked plainly.

" **Of course, we can land by ourselves, no need to waste a dropship on us.** " Hecate said incredulously. Tekka and Valerie burst out laughing. " **Come now, what are you doing out here? Did we miss something?** "

"Nothing worth mentioning." Tekka said, standing up. "How did your assignment go?"

The three heads of the Archon started giggling. " **You could say it was an... explosive success.** " the left head burst into laughter. "It went... swimmingly..." the middle head couldn't help it anymore either. "I think it is time we showed you. _Come on, you know that we came to make a show of it_! Of course but we should get on with it nonetheless." the Archon started merrily sliding-floating towards the middle of town.

"I think we should follow, just to keep everyone else safe." Valerie jogged after Hecate.

"This should be fun." Tekka muttered.

" **Gather around, children, we have amusing news.** " Hecate's voice thundered across the town, like an imperious goddess in a good mood. By the time Tekka and Valerie caught up with it, the Archon was already floating roughly 4 meters in the air, like a red demon in the night sky. The Terrans didn't scream and scatter as Valerie guessed, but instead stopped whatever they were doing and came out of their homes to see what is going on. " **Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are Hecate, and we are here to help, and oh boy did we help last night. You see, the Dylarian Shipyards was down with a bad case of Zerg with a sore hybrid, and we volunteered to deal with this horrid disease.** " the Archon conjured an illusory screen, the size Valerie had seen in cinemas. The ever-increasing crowd saw the Shipyard from above. Suddenly, a red star smashed into its surface like an angry god, releasing an explosion that tore the gathering Infested apart. " **This is the boring part, where we provoke the hybrid to come out of hiding, since it would be rude to damage your property, wouldn't it?** " the crowd was a little shocked still but they were coming around. The screen blinked, and showed Hecate rushing out of a building. " **Naturaly, we managed to rouse its ire and we brought it out for a dance. As you can see, it was rather uncreative, however hard we tried to inspire it to pick up the pace. We felt terribly disappointed. However, the next part should be watched as recorded by one of the many cameras of the battlecruiser that was kind enough to escort us there.** "The screen blinked again, and for a moment, only the starlit void could be seen, the bright sun on the right, and small parts of the battlecruiser on the bottom. From the left, the ugly form a hybrid destroyer flew in, slowly spinning, under attack by an unseen force. A hail of high calibre cannon fire opened upon the monstrosity, turning it into red mist. The Archon was laughing in the air, swinging a bit as well. The audience was laughing. " **We have another angle we like very much.** " the next camera was somewhere on the left wing of the ship, and it showed the battlecruiser very well, as well as the platform where the Archon and the hybrid fought. Suddenly, the hybrid is blown off the surface of the shipyard, rolling into the void, with Hecate doing the voice acting by screaming pathetically like a cartoonish girl, then making explosion sounds. The crowd exploded in laughter, partially because of what happened, partially because of the sillyness of a menacing Archon doing cartoony voice acting. " **We are happy that you enjoyed it like we did. Thank you for your attention.** " some people started clapping, and the others quickly caught up, and soon the Archon bowed before the applauding throng of Terrans.

"Hey! Hey I recognise you!" someone down there said. "You're the Singing Archon!"

The threed heads looked at each other, blinking, then on the ground. " **We are sorry, the what?** "

"The Singing Archon!" the man waved and shouted like an idiot. "Didn't you sing a tragic love song in a cantina a few days ago?"

" **Oh, that.** " Hecate's middle head nodded. " **We did. What about it?** "

"Could you sing some more?" the man asked.

Somewhere down there, Tekka was rolling on the ground laughing, but Hecate felt flattered. " **Oooh... Well, if you insist. What to sing, what to sing... There's that part from Antorel and Kharzus we always liked...** " Hecate spun around and by the time it finished the turn, its robes were white and gold like the Templars' back in the day, then burst into a classic piece of ancient Protoss musicals, singing the female part of Antorel. It felt that its speed translation had some problems but it got the story through.

" _ **Oh, you gods are so cruel!**_ " Hecate cried inidignantly. " _ **Why birth me in a time of spineless men? Why would I tie my fate to one of them?**_ " the Archon pointed at the air, and shining images of proud Protoss warriors appeared, prancing around comically like peacocks. Hecate suddenly looked up at the heavens. " _ **You think I'm unjust? You think I'm unfair? I will gladly prove you just how disappointing these men are!**_ " the images faded away, replaced by a zealot bowing repeatedly before a semi-circle of robed, elderly Protoss with staves. " **Here is Talrin, the great warrior! See his bravery! See his wit! See his soul!** " Hecate covered the middle head's mouth with her hand. " **Oh I'm sorry, there isn't much to see.** " then it sang on with glee. " _ **Isn't he manly as he bows before his elders so many times a day that I wonder if he knows the floor better than the world? Isn't he thoughtful that he takes order without considering if they make sense?**_ " Hecate laughed cruelly, the image of Talrin and the elders disappearing. " _ **Oh, you gods, you truly must see, this man is not for me! Where are the brave, where are the strong, where are the ones who make the jokes and are not the joke themselves?**_ "

The image of a strong, tall Templar appeared, sparring evenly with three more average ones others. " _ **Well, who would that be?**_ " Hecate looked at it in fake interest, then waved dismissively. " _ **Oh, it's just Teldim, the witless rockchewer giant! Please, oh gods, please! Spare me of this living drivel, spare me of this cheap charade!**_ " the image of Teldim vanished, replaced by an illusory garden that Hecate was running through until it reached a pond. The white-robed Archon collapsed upon its shores in tears. " _ **Oh, cruel gods! Why must you torture me so? Why did you write such a paltry part for me?**_ " it looked up at the sky with hatred. " _ **How I wish I could tear down those tyrannous stars that dictate my fate! How I would throw them in the hell they made for me!**_ " Hecate burst into tears and clawed at the ground. " _ **But you are beyond my reach, you evil stars, guarding my joy with jealous vigilance. I am here, alone, without a friend to lean on, without a soul to care for me. Oh, heavens, what do I do, what do I do...**_ "

" _Where is my daughter?_ " suddenly a deep male voice sang gently from somewhere in the night. " _Where is the star of my eyes, the joy of my heart, the pride of my soul?_ "

Hecate seemed surprised that its performance wasn't over, a feeling that deepened when it saw Nabiros in a simple grey robe that looked very much like Tekka's walking to it in the air. But it was unthinkable not to play its part in the duet. " _ **Father, my father, I'm here!**_ " the Archon knelt up as Nabiros walked to it.

Nabiros hugged the three heads to his chest, patting the middle one gently. " _What is wrong, my child? What could brake your unbrakable cheer? Who did you wrong? Who needs a visit from my wrath?_ "

" _ **Would that you could wrestle the gods into finding me a decent man.**_ " Hecate chuckled defeatedly. " _ **That would surely be a sight to see.**_ "

" _That I cannot, my dearest._ " Nabiros shook his head slowly, then cupped the middle head in his hands and looked it in the eye. " _But I could knock some sense into you._ "

Hecate scrambled back a few steps while standing up quickly, looking distraught. " _ **What have I done against you, father! I've done nothing but my best, and all I earned was the scorn of the rest! I'm alone! Can't you see that I'm alone?!**_ "

Nabiros gently took Hecate's hand between his own two. " _I am here. I am here for you. And though I may die, in battle or bed, I will always be with you. Either alive or dead, I will see you safe, I will see you happy, this I swear._ "

Hecate swiftly embraced Nabiros, who returned it with care. " _ **What blessing you are to me! What kind god saw fit to send you here to guard me against my dismal fate? Please, my father, never leave me, never leave me...**_ " the illusory scenery disappeared and darkness covered the aerial stage.

The crowd exploded in cheers and applause like thunder, making it hard for Hecate and Nabiros to whisper under the blanket of darkness. " **How come you're here, captain oh captain?** "

"I just came back with Konrad from our assignment." Nabiros shrugged. "I saw you performing Antorel and Kharzus by yourself, and as good it was, I couldn't just let you sing it alone, it would have been unforgivable."

" **You are a good man, Nabiros, we applaud you.** " Hecate's heads nodded in appriciation. " **Time to see our audience.** "

Suddenly appearing on a small stage of solid light, Hecate and Nabiros appeared before their audience, who went into a frenzy of applause. The duo bowed several times but it just wouldn't stop. Hecate raised its hand to try and calm them down but it didn't work much. " **HEY!** " it shouted over the crowd, who slowly stopped. " **Since you seem to be in the mood, how about something more... how do you Terrans call it... upbeat?** " A cheer roared through the night. " **Alright, but we need a few minutes and I refuse to sing through the night without a bonfire, so get me a bonfire and whatever else you require. Sounds good? Then get to it!** " the crowd scattered for wood, drinks, snacks, and potty breaks.

"It's been awhile since we had a good concert." Valerie clapped slowly in her armour. "Or one at all."

"Yea, people needed to blow off some steam." Konrad appeared from behind her.

"Can I have my robe back?" Tekka asked but was nowhere to be seen.

Hecate and Nabiros floated to the ground. "Of course, thank you for lending it to me." he said as he gave the robe back.

"We had to cover your extra mechanical limbs and the anti-grav harness somehow." Tekka's voice said as the robes flipped around in the air.

" **We never thought Terrans on the ground would ever know of that one scene in the Avalanche's cantina.** " Hecate wondered aloud.

"Someone recorded it, and it spread as fast as bad news, and we all know that's faster than the speed of light." Valerie laughed. "I had it an hour or so after it happened."

" **So chances are that this performance was recorded as well?** " Hecate asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah." Konrad grinned.

Hecated looked at Nabiros. "The Hierarch will be displeased."

"Or impressed." Tekka tried cheering it up. "He might ask you to perform on Aiur when the theatre is finished."

The glint in the three pairs of eyes of the Archon spoke volumes of her opinion on the subject, but the light died out in a blink. " **We would be happy with a simple non-upset response, anything better than that is unrealistic daydreaming.** "

"You promised these people an 'upbeat' performance." Nabiros said strictly. "This attitude is betraying that promise, and you know what I think of such behaviour."

" **Alright, alright, we're going now!** " Hecate scrambled away and soon disappeared from their eyes.

"That reminds me, there is something I need to take care of." Tekka said suddenly. "Enjoy the show!" and with that, she vanished with a puff of silky smoke.

"What on earth..." Valerie muttered aloud.

"Come on, Val, it's been ages since we could get proper drunk." Konrad grabbed her by the armoured arm and pulled her towards the ad hoc fesitivities. "Come on, let's go!"

With all his crew gone, Nabiros suddenly felt like he should be doing something. "Well, I might as well help out with the logistics and enjoy myself. By Adun, I can't say I have ever truly been to a concert in this life."

Recorded history cares little for small events like this, but it is in these times that people find the strength to move on from a burdened past, and community in a shattered world. That night was good, and those who were there spoke of it for years: "We were stuck in shitty prefab shelters", they'd say, "Then this crazy 3-headed Archon comes along and gives an awesome concert while floating in the air, and providing the visuals with psychic tricks. How cool is that?"


	19. Chapter 17

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.30

 **Location:** Korhal, Imperial Palace  
 **Time:** Morning

With all the operatives having returned from their tasks, the debriefing was scheduled in the small free time Emperor Valerian had set aside for the crew of the Explorer. However, since last night went about in a rather uncommon way for the team, they did not arrive as a group as before. The location, fortunately, was the same conference room they used the last time.

First to arrive was Hecate, who needed even less rest than its Protoss crewmates. It floated around the minibar wishfully, sometimes lifting the glasses and bottles to see how they shine in the lamp light. Realising a little too late that it arrived several hours too soon, it shut off the lights to meditate in the complete darkness.

When Nabiros entered the room, he needed no light source to detect the meditating Dark Archon. Respecting its wish, he took his seat and waited in silence.

Valerie and Konrad arrived together, moaning a little every now and then as they each cradled their own miserable hangovers in their systems. Entering the room, they only saw Nabiros' light glowing in the darkness, and reflexively turned the lights on.

"Why are you two sitting in the darkness?" Valerie asked drowsily.

" **We find darkness to be more comfortable than light.** " Hecate said, standing up slowly. " **It's not a personal preference, we very much enjoy being able to see as opposed to being blind, but there is something ineffably comfortable about it.** _And our dear captain was polite enough to let us be like this for a while longer._ You were not intruding though, do not worry. **He will be here soon.** _Where is Tekka though?_ "

"She said she had something to do last night, then vanished, literally." Konrad said as he sat down and gently put his forehead on the table.

"She will be here on time." Nabiros said reassuringly. "She has never been late before."

"Something could have happened." Valerie said with a worried tone in her seat.

"I pity the fool who would dare cross her, especially if it's a Terran." Nabiros chuckled. "A fight with a ghost could be interesting, assuming that said ghost is well rested, armed, and among the best the Dominion has, but picking a fight with a Tal'darim master assassin is not on the list of smart choices, ever."

"Hold on a second." Konrad raised his head from the table. "I thought she was a librarian, doesn't that mean that she's a scholar or something?"

"The two are not mutually exclusive." Nabiros noted. "In her case, the two are very closely related, I would say."

"Oh yeah, you two have known each other for a while." Konrad scratched his chin. "So you're saying she's a good fighter?"

"That would be like saying that an Ultralisk has a crushing bite." Nabiros laughed. "While it is true, the complete truth has much more to it. You see, the ultimate problem with all good fighters is that eventually they will have to strike you with their blades, which means that you are well aware of the threat they pose and can plan accordingly. For example, when a hybrid reaver came at me, I knew it was going to rip me into tiny bits at close range, so what was the only logical thing to do? Blast it into its component atoms at range, and then we could move on to the next one, but that is another story."

Nabiros leaned back on his two crane arms. "But Tekka? She will find your weak spot, however temporary or miniscule it might be. You have a gun? She's behind you and her blade is turning your intestines into bird food. You have blades? She will whip you with lightning bolts until you turn to ash. You're invincible? She will bait you into an avalanche, a magma spout, a vespene pocket, anything. I have seen her accomplish all the things I have just said, and more, so believe me, I have absolutely no doubt that she is safe."

"She did say that her trick was to outsmart the problem and adapt around it." Valerie blurted out, thining out loud.

Nabiros gave her a piercing glance. "She told you? Interesting."

Valerie turned red a little in embarrassment. "Well, uuhh... with an Archon in the room there really is no point in hiding anything, so umm.. yea, she did, but it was more like a brakedown. I erm... we were talking, and she made me ask a question that nagged me ever since I met her but I never thought it smart to ask, and then uhm... well, one thing lead to another and... yeah."

" **What was the question?** " Hecate asked, who silently crawled up behind Valerie, who jumped a little in surprise. " **Oooh, it must have been something good...** "

"I... I wanted to know why she's wearing that bleak robe." Valerie rubbed her face with her hands. "I couldn't help myself, she just looked me in the eye and... I just had to tell her. I can't even tell if she used some mind trick or something."

"Tekka has more than one way to pull information out of people." Nabiros said with admiration. "She is good with words and understands people in ways I cannot even fathom."

"So she could kick your ass and is a better talker than you." Konrad summed it up. "So how did you end up being the captain?"

"Konrad!" Valerie punched him in the ribs, which only made him slightly uncomfortable, while Valerie was cradling her hand. She often forgot just how much of his body did his cybernetic harness cover.

"No need to rebuke him for a perfectly reasonable question." Nabiros poked Valerie in the shoulder with a mechanical tendril, just hard enough to get the point across. He leant forward, on the table, and pondered for a few moments. "I never really thought about it, truth be told. This whole adventure was my idea, and Tekka decided to follow me. I think that while she has an amazing skill set, I'm the one with the initiative and shamelessness to be the captain."

" **Shamelessness?** " Hecate raised its six non-existant eyebrows.

"Come now, would I be here if I had an understanding of what shame is?" Nabiros stared at the Archon.

The Archon thought for a long moment before answering. " **We believe you have a very deep understanding of what shame truly is, and that is specifically because why you come across as shameless to others.** "

Nabiros straightened out in his seat, his interest apparent. "Enlighten me."

Hecate started walking across the room. " **Consider the time you found us. You could have left us to die, which would have been perfectly reasonable, but instead of a wretched Dark Archon, you saw a pack of elderly Nerazim who got stuck trying to sit down in the same chair. And since you are the strictly but reasonably honourable type, you help your less than sound elders, and here we are, showered in the blessings of your monumental decision to help us. You saw no wrong in doing so, not because you have no sense of shame, but because you would have felt intolerably ashamed if you had left us to rot in that tower. You have deep faith in your sense of honour, so you follow it with zeal, without a shred of doubt, even if it means another awkward hearing in the Executor Council.** "

"I have no idea what you're talking about, since we missed out on it, but I see your point." Valerie said, nodding. "Nabiros was just like that with us if you remember."

"Yeah, I agree too." Konrad nodded enthusiastically. "When we were visiting those Iron Front guys, he showed an orbital view of the time they shot Amon's host body, and he was all 'you think you suffered an orbital bombardment? Fuck you, this is what a real orbital bombardment looks like', while giving zero fucks. I'm not sure if he realised or cared but folks got scared shitless by that bit. Seriously, if truth was a beatstick, then Nabiros just picked it up and hammered everyone's head until it was no longer up their ass. No sweettalking, no threats, just plain ol' facts."

"I'm not even sure if it supports the same point." Valerie muttered.

"For me it does." Konrad shrugged.

"Thank you for your high opinion of me." Nabiros said with a small bow. "I am also glad to know that I do have a functioning sense of right and wrong. Recent events made me doubt it."

Hecate laughed, but its response was cut short when the door opened, revealing Emperor Valerian. Everyone stood up swiftly and bowed slightly.

"I'm glad to see you in such high spirits." the Emperor smiled as he walked to the screen. "I've heard you had a good time last night. I will have to ask Hierarch Artanis to invite me for a theatre performance sometime. It seems we have much in common in that regard."

" **We are happy to learn that you enjoyed our humble performance.** " Hecate bowed deeply. " **We also wish we could see the Hierarch's face when you tell him that.** "

"I'm more interested in Vorazun's." Tekka said as she appeared in her seat with a puff of silky smoke. "Hearing about a Dark Archon give a performance in the Terran capital will undoubtedly disturb her peace of mind."

"What is a Dark Archon?" Valerian asked innocently, ignoring Tekka's stealthy entrance entirely.

" **We are.** " Hecate gestured over its form. " **We trust you noticed that we don't quite look like your normal Khalai Archon.** "

"So there are variants based on background." Valerian thought aloud. "Interesting. However, time is short as usual, so will hear your reports now. Hecate, I was told you made quite a show out of clearing out the Dylarian Shipyards. What happened?"

" **We are surprised that you were not told already, Emperor Valerian.** " Hecate assumed that after last night half the Dominion knew what happened there. " **We removed the Zerg infestation on the orbital platform, as well as the hybrid destroyer that caused it. We are sure that the captain of the Avalanche will send you the recordings of the latter.** _Until we saw them we were rather disappointed in the lack of practice the hybrid provided us, but from the battlecruiser's perspective the whole thing looked hilarious._ "

Valerian just stood there with a slightly raised eyebrow for a moment before responding. "Very well, I will keep an eye out for his report, it should be on my desk by the time I get there. A job well done. Nabiros?"

"It was... unusual." Nabiros began, having trouble trying to explain what happened. "The Terrans there had no knowledge of what happened in the outside world after the Golden Armada paid them a brief visit. I explained to them, and after some deliberation, they decided to return to the fold. Truth be told, I have trouble phrasing the rest." he looked to Konrad for help.

"Oh, erm, uh..." Konrad was surprised that he had to talk, his brain scrambled for words to put into sentences. "You see, the whole Iron Front thing was a farce. Professor Emily Steward, the leader of the bunch, made it up to keep folks in line, since all she had to work with were more or less overeducated civilians. She thought it would end the second the Dominion showed up, but there was this mad preacher guy who actually took the whole thing seriously, so she had to keep up appearances. Then the preacher guy behaved like an absolute ass at the gate when we tried to enter, then she shoved him over the wall and rid us of the key problem. After that and Nabiros explaining everything to them, folks put two and two together and got on with their lives. I'm no expert, but the way I see it, they won't be a problem anymore, not when their leaders can get back to cushy jobs to keep them from thinking about much else, and their lives can slowly return to normal."

"That is good news." Valerian walked a few paces as he spoke. "Valhalla's facilities might be in bad shape, but with a little creativity and determination, a number of factories could be restored in a few weeks. Between that and regaining control of the Dylarian Shipyards', the Dominion can get back on its feet much faster than without them. Good work. Ms. Jacobson?"

"He agreed to turn the internal communication in the Prometheus Society around to invest into growth and focus on the Society's original mission statement, in return for making sure that efforts will be made to help create that colony in Daelaam space." Valerie summarised the discussion with headmaster Altmeir. "It seemed he got carried away by his ideas and had very little information on how remarkably well Augustgrad looks compared to most other cities in the core worlds."

"That is good." Valerian seemed relieved, though he made an effort not to show it. "As valuable as the Ghost Program has proved to be, I want to replace it with a more humane system that produces soldiers who are loyal by choice, not by conditioning and coercion. It will be much easier to accomplish with the Prometheus Society's help. Well done."

" **How did your own negotiations go, if we may ask?** " Hecate asked with glimmering eyes.

"Oh, that." Valerian was not expecting the question but he got back in the saddle quickly. "Apparently, some people think that Kerrigan reached some form of divinity by ascending to Xel'naga. A lot more think that her story and character is an inspiration and example for us all, so they want her to be declared a national hero of a sort, so that her life and deeds could be relayed to further generations. A somewhat large group within this would like a colony in Zerg space, so that relations with the Zerg could be improved now that they have a more reasonable relationship. Some of them had the same idea as Tekka to a degree, that with the new leadership, the Zerg have their first-ever shot at becoming an interstellar culture instead of a vast herd to space predators, and as their elders from a cultural perspective, it is our duty to help elevate them from beasts to people. What do you think so far?"

"Insane." Valerie and Konrad said simultaneously.

"Brave." Nabiros nodded with respect.

" **Exciting.** " Hecate's six eyes glimmered with enthusiasm.

"Daring." Tekka said diplomatically.

"I had similar thoughts myself." Valerian laughed. "I talked with them about Kerrigan, the kind of person I think she was based on my personal experience, a little about Stukov and Zagara, and suddenly I had their complete attention and respect. I capitalised on that by promising to discuss a colony in Zerg space with Zagara given the chance, in return for their good behaviour. They couldn't possibly want to let Kerrigan down who, for all we know, could be watching over us?"

Hecate laughed. " **Well played, Emperor Valerian, well played.** "

"When you put it like that, Kerrigan did become the Queen Bitch of the Universe." Konrad thought out loud.

"Assuming she still lives." Valerie noted. "Last time we saw her she turned into a planet-shattering explosion."

"I think she went off to have godlike sex with Raynor, they have a lot to catch up on you know." Konrad shrugged. "I think those random planets now blooming with life are also her doing. You know, righting wrongs and all that."

"Except we have proof of none of that." Nabiros remarked.

Tekka poked him in his non-existant ribs. "Sometimes when facts are not available, we believe what we do not because it's reasonable but because believing that makes us feel better. I see no harm in believing that the Queen of Blades got a happy ending after her miserable life. It inspires people to redeem themselves and that's very important."

"I'm not even going to argue with that." Nabiros waved dismissively.

"At any rate." Valerian cut in before the arguing went any further. "Congratulations on your successful missions. You have your next week off, that should give us the time we need to find problems where we could use you. In the meantime, I would suggest arming yourselves properly, because the moment we run out of major problems, you're going into hostile territory to resolve conflicts that would otherwise result in the deaths of many soldiers. I will notify the captain of the Avalanche to be of assistance when his duties permit. Dismissed."

The crew of the Explorer stood up and bowed as the Emperor left the room.

" **He wasn't pleased by your silly argument.** " Hecate noted with dissatisfaction dripping in its voice.

"But there really is no proof supporting any theory." Nabiros said stubbornly.

"That's beside the point!" Tekka growled in frustration.

"Did you have sex with the groundskeeper?" Valerie dropped the bomb, provoking various unintelligable noises of disbelief from everyone.

" **That's one way to steer a conversation but we don't think that Tekka would have sex with a random Terran.** " Hecate was a little uncertain, its eyes darting between Tekka and Valerie.

Tekka walked towards the door, stopped on the threshold, then looked at Valerie over her shoulder with a cheeky expression. "Watching you guess is much more fun than telling you." and she left the room.

Valerie took a deep breath, apparently to shout obscenities at first, then changing her mind she slowly let the breath out. "Fuck you and your tricks, Tekka, I won't let you troll me any time you want."

" **What is this 'trolling' you speak of?** " Hecate asked.

"Funny that you of all people don't know." Konrad chuckled.

"I think we should get back to our ship and start working on your gear." Nabiros said with a commanding tone.

Konrad's eyes lit up. "I get to see a Protoss forge from up close!"

"Oh boy." Valerie facepalmed. "I hope the Avalanche's cantina has enough booze to get me through the incoming nerd week."

"Well that's just pure ungrateful right there." Konrad turned sour in a second.

"I appriciate the gear but I get exhausted listening to you gushing in tech-speak." Valerie said bluntly.

" **We find it offensive that you believe that you will have a dull moment with us around.** " Hecate said with fake indignation.

Valerie was already tired, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet. She had no idea how will she survive the coming week.


	20. Chapter 18

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.07.30

 **Location:** Korhal, Korhal, in orbit, aboard the battlecruiser "Avalanche"  
 **Time:** Afternoon

With the heavy burden of equipping their team for combat on their shoulders, Nabiros and Konrad told the rest of the team to do whatever they want - within reason - and leave them alone until they are done. There was much to discuss and a lot of work to do, they said. Tekka and Valerie trusted them to get the job done, so they were more than happy to spend their entire week of shore leave as they saw fit. Hecate saw an opportunity to train in solitude deep in the post-atomic wastelands of Korhal, and promptly disappeared. They all agreed to meet up on the Avalanche on the day before week's end so they would have time to practice with their new gear. Fortunately, the Avalanche also had some routine maintenance to deal with, so their timetables coincided flawlessly.

Nabiros and Konrad sat down in the cantina for their first discussion. The place was almost empty, since the crew was either working or on shore leave, so they weren't in the way.

"Before we start planning out everyone's gear, I think it'd be smart if we knew what each of us can do." Konrad said as he opened a bottle of beer. "Valerie is a great sniper, and I think we should let her be that. I have plenty of experience with most of the suits so I can go a number of ways. How about you three?"

"I agree." Nabiros nodded as he leant back on his crane arms. "Tekka is an assassin in combat, with heavy focus on stealth, speed, and brief but brutal attacks with either her blades or her psionic abilites. As for me, well... So far I have been assigned to combat engineer duty, meaning that I had to repair our vehicles, combat striders, and defensive structures, while keeping myself safe from the occasional harrassment." Nabiros raised his arms, then his hands split into tiny component parts, and slid back, revealing two arm-cannons that quietly hummed to life. "This chassis is the standard equipment for Purifier phase-smiths. It allows us to do all the work we are expected to do and to protect ourselves to some degree. Naturally, these photon blasters are not as elegant as psi blades but they have saved many lives beyond my own on numerous occasions. However, I believe it is necessary to create a combat focused variant. I'm still not sure what it should be like but there are four others to plan."

Konrad considered what he heared and drank a few gulps. "What about Hecate?"

"Hecate has a wide range of abilities that can be creatively used." Nabiros sounded a little unsure. "It can be safely classified as heavy support but I don't know if it needs any additional equipment."

"Of course it does." Konrad said seriously. "First, if only we get new stuff and leave it out then it'll feel left out, like the only kid in school who didn't get a christmas present. Second, there is no such thing as too much firepower. I'm sure there is something that could amplify its psychic things or something."

"Well, Khaydarin crystals can amplify psionic powers but I'm fairly certain that it would require modifications I'm not entirely familiar with." Nabiros mused out loud. "Maybe a long, thin crystal in a protective casing would work, like a staff."

"I can't imagine Hecate looking menacing with a wizard staff." Konrad was not impressed. He thought for a moment before continuing. "Aren't those pylons of yours made of the same crystal?"

"Yes, they are." Nabiros had no idea where Konrad was going with this.

"So how about you take a pylon, scale it down to size, and put it on a relatively long shaft?" Konrad's eyes were glowing with enthusiasm. "It would not only boost Hecate's power but it could also be used as a giant hammer. It'd be amazing!"

Nabiros just looked at him silently for several seconds. "It could work." he said slowly. "I will have to do some research on the subject, but as irresponsible as it is, I really want to give it a try."

Konrad slapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "That's my man!"

Deciding to ignore Konrad's unknown gesture, Nabiros went on to the next person on his list. "What do you have planned for Valerie Jacobson?"

Konrad turned a little sour. "Look, man, you really have to stop calling people by their full names, nobody likes it. See, if you're being formal, you call her 'Ms. Jacobson'. If you're being informal, which you should be in this case, you call her by her first name, Valerie. Same pattern goes for everyone else, with the occasional title wedged in. Alright?"

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend." Nabiros apologised. "Protoss have one name, and so the use of more is unusual to us."

"No harm done." Konrad shrugged, finished his bottle, and opened up another one. "About Val's gear, I'm not completely sure yet, but I have most everything planned out. Since there's no budget to work with, I can go as wild as I like, and you can bet your ass I will." Konrad laughed and took a quick sip from his beer. "Her gun needs to pack a punch, have long range and high accuracy, so I'm thinking a railgun. Not just partially, like in most rifles, but completely. Few rounds per mag, maybe slap some power in there as well so I need not put a fucking reactor on her back, something like that. I still have to do the math on it though. Her armour would have to be like the ghosts' but I doubt I could ask for some schematics, so I'll have to come up with one on my own. I'm thinking light armour, decent strength boost so she can carry around that huge gun without effort, run fast, and jump high and long. I want some decent mobility in that suit, mainly vertical, so she can reach good positions without having to look for the staircase. Also good defensively. I'll probably try and shove in some anti-grav toys that help her jump up and down. I really want to avoid putting a goddamn reactor on her back, that'd make the suit way too heavy to be agile and fast, so they'll be small, not too powerful, and with a reasonable recharge time between uses. I also want to put wrist-mounted grenade launchers on it for backup, with incendiary grenades because no smoke will confuse anyone anymore. Maybe flashbang, that still works."

"Why would you she need backup weapons?" Nabiros asked. "Wouldn't designing the suit around her role be more beneficial?"

"Oh come on, Nabiros, don't act like you don't know the first rule of combat!" Konrad said in disbelief. "Nothing goes according to plan in combat!"

"That could only happen because of bad planning." Nabiros argued.

"Tell that to all those zealots who got killed because they had fuckall for armour." Konrad quipped and drank some more.

Nabiros fumed at the insolence of a mere Terran engineer, a monkey with a wrench, criticising Protoss armour design, but he swiftly reminded himself that said monkey was not only perfectly correct but he himself shared that opinion since before Terrans developed space travel. "That is correct. But I don't see how the two are connected."

Konrad leant forward a little on the table. "Look man, I wasn't there when your people designed the original zealot armour, so I don't mean to insult you when I say that their heads were up their asses, okay?" Nabiros nodded silently. "Right. So here's how I imagine it went. At some point in your history, you perfected your neat plasma shields. Awesome. Then you thought 'why would we need to put a shitton of armour on when we could go for shields instead'? Yeah, it makes sense, shields protect from every angle from everything with the same effectiveness, while every armour has its pros and cons that can be used and abused to no end. Shields solve that problem, right? No, they don't!" Konrad quickly finished his bottle and opened the third. "When I could take some time to analyze zealot armour back in the First War, I could immediately see the problem. You see, the idea was that the zealot is killing people so fast, and he himself is so quick, that by the time his shields are down the armour need only provide a few moments until he can get to safety. The entire concept was based on the assumption of success! Are you with me so far?" Konrad asked and drank a few gulps.

Nabiros didn't respond immediately. "While it is not correct historically, your perspective is reasonable. Though I don't see what is wrong with designing around success. You craft tools to succeed with their proper use. If they fail, then you have failed as a designer, not the tool."

"I see your point but that's not what we're talking about here!" Konrad was glowing with enthusiasm. "It's about the attitude! Think of your big fleet, the Golden Armada. You assumed that it's gonna work, right? That it's gonna protect you from everything, right? Then boom, Zerg happened, and you were screwed like troop transports ambushed by a cloud of scourges. Why? Because you thought it would be enough - but there is no such thing as sufficient effort!" Konrad paused for a gulp. "You could have invested more effort into it, but you didn't, because you assumed success! It made you complacent! See, if you always assume that what you're doing won't be enough, then you will try to do more. If you always assume that what you're doing is enough, then you will sit around staying stupid instead of learning and improving!"

"Are you telling me that Terran engineering revolves around preparing for failure?" Nabiros asked under the duress of this mindboggling nonsense that might actually make quite a bit of sense.

"A long time ago, there was a man back on Earth called Murphy." Konrad said with reverence. "His eternal words were, 'what can go wrong will go wrong'. It might sound nihilistic to you, but it's actually about the ceaseless struggle to improve oneself, the ominpotence of life when it comes to humbling the unwarrantedly proud, and the sheer defiant resilience it takes to still find happiness in the world. Preparing to fail is the humble way, the only way that works, because even if you fail, you can die in the knowledge that you gave it your all." Konrad finished his third bottle and opened the next. "Am I making sense here?"

Nabiros was experiencing revelation after revelation. He had always known that his people had a large ego, but he never saw the true vastness of it until this moment. He felt embarrassed and humbled, and would have leapt to get back on his ship, return home, and tell everyone what he just realised, that they as a people must stop being so insufferably satisfied with themselves. However, he knew that there was an eternal divide between information and experience. Information is up to debate, while experience could only be digested, and this conversation was an invaluable experience for him, in ways that he could never convey in council or in public, its meaning would never be able to reach beyond his soul. He could only hope that the Daelaam will learn from the past, however slowly, individual by individual, until they could stop having an unwarranted sense of worth as a defining cultural trait. "Yes, you are." he said quietly. "I apologise, I must think on this." he stood up and walked out of the cantina, leaving Konrad confused and ignorant of what was going on.

Half an hour later Nabiros returned to find Konrad with a piece of paper and a pencil drawing sketches of a suit of armour. There were no beer bottles on the table, just a glass of water with a jug already half empty.

Konrad looked up from his drawing when he heard the Purifier approach. "Hey, man, how are you doing?" Konrad asked. "I was worried I said something bad."

"Quite the contrary, my friend." Nabiros sounded unusually enthusiastic. "Your words were enlightening. I simply needed to process them. With that done, we should get back to our earlier discussion. Now I agree that you should put those wrist-mounted grenade launchers on Valerie's armour. However, I would also suggest installing an advanced sensor suite, and a backpack for spare ammunition."

Konrad thought for a second, rubbing his chin. "I could put the whole thing on her back, the sensors on the top half and the ammo on the bottom half, for easier access. Okay, I'll need to do some math on the energy usage of the suit as well as the gun, but I think the concept is solid. Good idea though."

"What about your own gear?" Nabiros asked.

"Oooh, I have something nasty in mind." Konrad grinned. "You see, the main problem with these big suits is that a lot of space is wasted on accomodating the human body, but since I don't have limbs, I can use suits that no regular human could, simply because he wouldn't fit. Not to mention that it leaves a lot more space to work with. So I was thinking: since the girls already have melee and long range covered, all that's left is sheer firepower and explosions. I'm not sure what you're going for, but I have this picture of a slightly scaled up version of the marauder suit armed with a pair of railguns. Not the sniper rifle kind that Valerie has, no, this baby would have two different kinds: one a cannon, the other a shotgun. The cannon would fire high explosive shells at medium to long range, while the shotgun will blast shrapnel at close range. Rate of fire could be a problem but the effects should be well worth it."

"Why not simply two chainguns?" Nabiros wondered aloud. "The ones I saw on those Vikings when they landed. Scaled down, of course. Considering the size of your armour and the additional space available, you could store a decent amount of ammunition on your back, while the legs could be improved to allow such a burder without incurring a speed penalty."

"But then I don't get any explosions." Konrad sounded saddened by the idea.

"Then simply scale up the marauder suit." Nabiros suggested. "You could even do the loading inside the arms and have enough ammunition for a long engagement. You could also add versatility by using different kinds of grenades."

"Yeah... yeah, that sounds good..." Nabiros could only imagine the scenes rushing past Konrad's eye, probably full of explosions, fire, and body parts flying in all directions. "I think I'll go with that. How about you and Tekka?"

"For Tekka, she already has her weapons so I need only worry about the armour." Nabiros made a mental note to borrow them from Tekka for a while for study. "I want a suit that lessens the burden of extended use of psionic abilities, mainly teleportation, flight, and stealth. It should also provide good mobility on its own. This means Khaydarin crystals and limb enhancements. I also think that adding as many sensors would also be wise, so we would have quality detection in the front as well as in the back of our formation, not to mention the value of a backup in case the other is missing for any reason. What do you think?"

"I don't know your tech or her, so I'm hardly in a position to advise." Konrad drank some water. "But it does sound reasonable based on what I do know. What about yours?"

"Mine is simplicity itself." Nabiros shrugged nonchalantly. "I will remove the arms and back elements of this chassis, and replace it with a secondary generator and a pair of arms that will channel the energy for the weapon, which is practically a scaled down version of the colossus' incendiary beams. I will have to do some testing planetside but that is only necessary to make sure that my calculations are correct and everything works as it should. I always found your firebats hilarious but also inspiring." Nabiros shifted around in his seat in an attempt to lean on the table without crushing it. "Few people know, but the invention of the colossus was fuelled by obsession rather than genius."

"How do you know then?" Konrad asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I have... memories of that time." Nabiros said uncertainly. "To clarify, Purifiers were meant to be mechanical clones of living people, except disposable since they were only machines. However, what ended up happening was that each Purifier would slowly grow beyond the source personality, becoming their own person. This is fresh issue, so I have no way of telling how it will be resolved. But it is enough for now that the one whose memories I was given was a phase-smith in the team of scientists and engineers who eventually invented the colossus."

Konrad leant back in his chair. "That's... a lot to take in on short notice." he sipped from his glass. "Wow. It's like inheriting the memories of your single parent and not being told how you should handle the whole thing."

Nabiros tilted his head slightly. "That is a... unique take on it... but not without merit. Returning to our original topic, we were originally developing next generation capital ship cannons. However, there was an odd fellow who I will not name who was obsessed with fire, and his first solution to a problem was always to incinerate it. He was one of the foremost experts on orbital bombardment so we could hardly ignore him, but he was an absolute pain to deal with. He wanted to make flamethrowers work in a ground combat setting. He said it was the ultimate challenge of his life, to put planet-cleansing weaponry on the ground. I'm sure you are aware that the main problem with flamethrowers is applicability. Too small and it's not worth investing in, too big and you might as well put it on a ship. The man spent decades perfecting the concept and the technology, until one day he rushed out of his meditation chamber and into our laboratory and started shouting about a miracle, which was actually equal part genius and disappointing simplicity. May I have your paper and pencil?"

"Oh, sure." Konrad pushed them across the table.

Nabiros flipped the paper to draw on the clean side, illustrating his words as he spoke them. "You see, putting a flamethrower on the ground means that it will be horizontal, meaning that it will have trouble reaching anything at a distance or behind cover. His solution was to put it on stilts, giving it the angle it needed. Everything else followed this single thought. Since it had to be tall, it need not have occupied a lot of surface, especially once we figured out that it could easily walk on four pointy legs, allowing the rest of the ground army to advance unhindered. Since we already had several plans for capital ship cannons, we only had to scale it down somewhat so it fit on the egg-shaped chassis. It still went through a few years of testing, but the colossus was a shocking success. Shocking for us because we couldn't believe the Templar loved it so much, and shocking for everyone else when we used it en masse once and they saw the destruction it caused. They banned them afterwards, which we found extremely hypocritical, considering the firepower available to capital ships."

"Hold on a sec." Konrad raised a hand to pause the presentation. "You're telling me that the colossus is, on paper, a giant flamethrower on stilts?"

"Exactly." Nabiros nodded.

Konrad exploded in laughter, hitting the table with his hand, leaving small dents in it. Nabiros couldn't help himself and joined in, leaving the rest of the cantina to wonder what are those crazy cyborgs laughing at. They decided it was best if they didn't know.

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.05

 **Location:** Korhal, some desert the Terrans probably don't even have a name for  
 **Time:** Afternoon

" _These sands feel like those of Shakuras back in the day._ "

"It's a shame it had to be blown up, it would have been nice to see it after all those years."

" _We should check the archives on Aiur the next time we get there._ "

"And Vorazun. I wonder how she feels after hearing the news of our show."

" _She might not know about it._ "

"Don't let the lack of assassins and orbital bombardments fool you, what is not here may yet be still coming."

" **Or she doesn't care. You really should stop believing that we have such an impact on her peace of mind. For all we know she enjoyed the show.** "

"That's some incredbly wishful thinking."

" _Our sense of self-importance could use a little tuning though._ "

"Could you please play along with a hopeful joke?"

" _She's too young for you, you senile dragoon-reject. She doesn't see you, she sees us, and we have the sex appeal of a zergling in a blender. It's time you faced reality, despite the cuddlebox we share._ "

"Oh shut up you gun-fetishist pylon-fucker, I just want us to be on good terms with her. It's not like we don't have the time or opportunity to prove ourselves."

" _She will still think that we are playing the long game, as she should, you child molester._ "

"She is not a child!"

" _I think several centuries of age difference makes her a child in comparison._ "

"That didn't stop you back when you had your own body."

" _I can't really ask you to peacefully masturbate in the corner to vent, can I?"_

"

 **Can we even have sex like this?** "

" _That remains to be seen, though I'm not sure if I want to find out._ "

"You're so frigid you make an iceberg look like the rising sun."

" _I like sex but I prefer partners closer to my age and who don't hate me with the passion of a thousand suns._ "

"You do know that I don't want to have sex with Vorazun, or be romantically involved, right?"

" _It's like you've never heard a joke before._ "

" **It is decided. We will find out if we can have sex. We missed out for three centuries, and it shows on our mental state. We will wait and see if we can find someone, though considering that we are twelve already, we might as well look for orgies. Who knows? Maybe we can show these kids a few tricks.** "

" _We are so old that sex with us might as well be necrophilia, but why not? If everyone is happy then everything is allowed._ "

"I'm not sure if our sense of time is still working properly, but I worry that Nabiros and the others coming here on our ship might be a sign that it's not working as intended."

" _It would be a solid excuse. It's not like we are missing out on anything._ "

" **Do you think they made something for us?** "

" _It's not like we can wear armour._ "

" **Something else, then.** "

"You really want to get something from Nabiros, eh?"

" **We are just curious, that is all. Quiet now, they are coming. And no sneaky-peeky!** "

The Explorer landed a dozen meters away from Hecate, and soon, four odd people jogged down its ramp.

The first was looked very much like Nabiros, except he was missing his crane arms and tendrils, and he had yellow crystal spikes protruding from his back, shoulders, and arms, shrinking from half a meter long from the back to a few centimeters on the hands. Hecate also sensed something like a tiny, trapped star that was not present before within him. It must have been an energy weapon of some sort.

The second was undoubtedly Tekka, in her trademark gauntlets. She also wore a full set of armour, resembling modern zealot armour but slimmer and with a lot, lot more Khaydarin crystals spread out across it, like jewelry. It seamlessly followed the silver and red of her gauntlets, as if they were part of the same set.

The other two were less artistically sound but looked impressive nonetheless. The large one, most likely Konrad, was taller than Nabiros by almost half a meter, in a scaled-up suit that the Terrans developed recently whose name Hecate couldn't remember. It was a bulky, tough thing, but its movements were well articulated, as if the man was the suit and not wore the suit. The Archon thought that it's probably the cybernetics at work. It made her wonder why dragoons didn't look like large Protoss but the Khalai are weird like that.

The last one, then, must have been Valerie, in a rather spooky looking armour, standing almost as tall as Tekka. It looked like a skinned Terran with its metallic muscle cords following anatomy perfectly across the body, with only a flat piece of metal on the chest disturbing the patterns. Her helmet looked like a Terran skull with glowing red eyes, grinning with joyful malice. She carried a large gun, almost half her size. Hecate was fairly certain it was a sniper rifle and not a cannon of mass destruction. Konrad's funny arm-things promised that instead.

" **Were we not a mighty Dark Archon, we would be worried for our safety seeing you, but you look impressive nonetheless.** " Hecate tried to compliment without sounding too impressed. It couldn't afford to lose the value of its praise by giving it away too easily.

"I had no idea that installing the incendiary beam and the secondary power core would make me crave to purge like this." Nabiros said, his voice booming more than usual. To Hecate he seemed a bit like Tekka on Terrazine, high on power and unsure how to feel about it. It was sweet. "But the real reason we came out here is because we believe that it is best if we gave you your new piece of equipment in a safe environment."

" **Aawww, you shouldn't have...** " Hecate waved and glowed brighter by at least two orders of magnitude in excitement.

A probe floated out from the ship, levitating before it the oddest thing Hecate had ever seen. It had an ornate shaft of dark silver, with a Terran fist-sized red crystal on the bottom, and a large one on the top, roughly as big as Valerie would be if she curled up into a ball, but shaped like a... a pylon, of all things. The shaft held on to it with two ghostly hands made of its own dark silvery material, as if the shaft was actually two arms conjoined, twisting up to reach the precious red crystal. The crystals radiated power barely kept in check, like a pack of hungry wolves straining against their leash, snapping their drooling jaws at everything and anything nearby in an insatiable lust of feed on their flesh and blood.

" **That is... the absolutely most un-Nerazim weapon we have ever seen.** " Hecate said with a mix of wonder and confusion.

"This isn't about you being Nerazim, this is about you being you." Tekka laughed. "You might use Nerazim tools, but in the end, you yourself are rather straightforward, like this hammer."

Hecate pondered the words for a while, its heads looking at each other in contemplation. " **That is a surprisingly true summary. Very well, we will humour you. We do not recognise the red crystals, what are they?** "

"They are called bloodshards." Tekka explained. "The Tal'darim use them in their own Void Ray variants for increased mass destruction. We decided to go with a fun idea instead of a boring one."

" **Cunning choice of words, our dear Tekka.** " Hecate chuckled. " **You know what to say to us. Give us the hammer, Nabiros, we will give it a few swings.** "

"You should do it a little farther away." Nabiros said carefully as he handed over the hammer. "Our own tests showed that it's... eager."

" **That is an odd way to describe...** " Hecate said but never finished, as it grabbed the hammer with its black hand. It was a snug fit, but it was the rush of urgency and power washing over the Archon like a tidal wave of rabid, hungry animals that caught her attention. " **Oh. We see what you mean.** "

As the Archon slowly walked away from the others, it sensed that this bloodshard was a crudely but efficiently twisted form of Khaydarin crystal. Khaydarin crystals always had a sense of life about them, the faintest glimmer of consciousness, but this bloodshard was like a state of emotion shackled into crystal form. It was carnage, raw, undiluted bloodlust. No second thoughts, no alternatives, no roundabout approaches, just single-minded brutality honed to purity, as if slaughter could be an elevated state of mind.

" **We are not amused by your attempts at influencing us, insolent crystal.** " Hecate spoke to the hammer. " **We will make your position clear for you.** "

Hecate smashed the hammer into the ground, shaking the earth slightly, and turning the sand into glass as a wave or crackling energy exploded from the crystal head. Hecated put its hand on the pommel, and shadowy tendrils oozed down into the hammer. As if in response, red lightning whipped against the shadows to banish them.

" **You are a tool, we are the master. You will be the extension of our will. Submit, or perish.** "

The shadows became thicker and more insistent, taking the form of clawed handes tearing at the red crystal. A brief war was waged, but in the end, the darkness consumed the hammer, and the unchained desires within bowed before their new master.

" **Wise choice. Now, let's see if you are worth my attention.** "

Hecate swung the hammer in a wide, horizontal arc, and like a comet, the hammer released a tail of hungry lightning, searching but not finding any prey. The Archon held it high up and channeled a measure of its power into it. The hammer shone and hummed like a trapped star, and when Hecate swung it forward, it released a bolt of lightning that flew swiftly into the horizon, dissipating harmlessly after a while. The Archon touched the hammer to its three foreheads, further drowning it in its power, letting it flow freely between them, empowering each other like twin gods. Hecate couldn't help but rise several meters above the ground and set free its wings of silky smoke. Turning to its fellows on the ground, it seemed like an avenging angel in its full majesty, radiating glory and the promise of a grisly fate for those who stand against the righteous.

"You're beautiful." Valerie whispered.

Hecate almost blinked before her it swooped down so fast, its wings and radiance gone, replaced by the giggling three-headed Dark Archon they all knew. " **Could you repeat that, darling?** "

"You looked beautiful up there." Valerie smiled. "Seriously, let me take pictures next time."

" **Oh, you unchained charmer.** " Hecate giggled and caressed her head with its black hand. Valerie felt several shivers run up and down her spine of the pleasant but weird variety. " **We will indulge you sometime.** " the Archon turned to Nabiros. " **This hammer is wonderful! Thank you ever so much.** " Hecate floated closer and caressed his chest. Nabiros became irrevocably aware that the female elements of Hecate are deeply pleased with his gift, while the men cheered politely.

"It was actually Konrad's idea..." Nabiros blurted out barely intentionally.

" **Is that so?** " Hecate swam through the air to Konrad. " **How nice of you to think of us, and such a nice present as well! Ah, so many lovely people...** " Hecate slowly floated around him and slowly caressed his spine from bottom to top. Konrad switched off his comms in time to experience in privacy that a spine can actually have orgasms.

"I helped design it." Tekka said like a kid left out from the hugs for a job well done. "I came up with the bloodshards."

" **Aw, how could we ever forget of our dearest Tekka?** " Hecate purred as it floated closer. " **We do love it when people express their desires, even if it's a little roundabout.** " Hecate swam behind her and hugged her to its chest. " _We hope you take the hint._ " the Archon whispered to her. Some part of Tekka wanted to protest but the overwhelming majority was busy with the tingling sensations rushing across her body, like a thousand hands gently caressing her every nerve. The hug was brief and she had to make a conscious effort to force her shaking knees to hold her properly.

" **Thus armed, who would dare stand before the valiant crew of the Explorer?** " Hecate shouted its challenge to the sky, and laughed with joy.

Somewhere, in the unconceived of realms of the cosmos, a chuckle rolled around in the vast mind of fate. It had a few ideas.


	21. Chapter 19

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.06

 **Location:** Korhal, Imperial Palace  
 **Time:** Morning

" **We are wondering if we could keep this conference room for** **ourselves**." Hecate mused aloud. " **Our own personal briefing room.** "

"Getting sentimental already?" Valerie asked as she poured herself a glass of water from the bar.

" **We have grown accustomed to this room. It is the home to so many fond memories.** " the Archon sounded like it was talking about the place where it received its first confession of love or something.

"It's not like we've been here so many times." Konrad muttered to himself.

"I have to agree with Hecate." Nabiros was walking around the room slowly. "Besides its sentimental values, we are the only ones who use this room."

"How do you know?" Valerie raised an eyebrow.

"I scanned the room, top to bottom, naturally." the Purifier felt like he's explaining the obvious. "They clean it once a week, and the... what is it called... the bar is refilled an hour before the scheduled meeting. No other traffic otherwise."

"Wow." Konrad was impressed and a little creeped out. "You'd make a great private detective."

"What is a private detective?" Tekka asked.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you don't have those." Valerie groaned. "We have this thing called 'police', who enforce the law and keep the streets safe. On paper at least. Among others, they have detectives, people whose job is to gather clues to find the bad guys, and hopefully enough evidence to put them into prison. Private detectives don't work for the police. They either work alone or in an agency. Their job is to find out whatever the client is paying them to. For example, a private detective could be hired for something smaller like 'who is my daughter dating but not telling me about since I found this condom in the bin the other day', or something bigger, like what blackmail material can be dug up on your rivals."

"Sounds interesting." Nabiros and Tekka said simultaneously. They chuckled a bit at that.

The door opened, and Emperor Valerian entered. He stopped after a few steps as he took a closer look at the occupants of the room. Everyone was in their combat gear, with helmets on the table and giant hammer floating on the far wall, as if hung up on invisible stakes in the wall.

"I see you have armed yourselves as I asked." Valerian said, a little surprised. "But I'm not sure how."

"Our ship has a small forge that can fabricate what we need." Nabiros explained. "We had a cache of minerals from a previous encounter, as well as enough free time, and this is the result."

"Even the armour of Ms. Jacobson and Mr. Walters?" Valerian asked.

"Correct, though Konrad is to be credited for their design." Nabiros gestured at his fellow combat engineer. "He did an amazing work."

"I can see that." Valerian was impressed. "You will be well armed for your next assignments." he shook his head, looking a little sad. "I'm sorry to say that you will not be able to test your new gear together." he turned to the Purifier. "I just received a message from Hierarch Artanis. He orders you to return to Aiur at once but he would not say why. He looked troubled but I don't think that you are the cause of it." he turned to the rest of the team. "Hierarch Artanis also made it clear that he expects the other members of the crew to remain and provide assistance. Fortunately, depending on how you look at it, we don't have any major battles going on, but quite a few small ones. You will be working with General Andrei Kyznetsov, my leading expert on uncommon warfare. He is waiting for you in orbit."

Nabiros looked at his arms and would have sighed with disappointment if he could. "I really wanted to see how these worked in combat." he looked up at Valerian. "But if the Hierarch requires my presence then I shall not delay." he turned to his crew. "While I'm away, Tekka is in command. You are to obey her orders like they came from me. Behave with integrity, and bring honour to your ship and crew. Cooperate with the General to the best of your abilities, as long as he acts within Emperor Valerian's best interests. Are my orders clear and understood?"

A grumble that sounded like agreement came from the crew.

"ARE MY ORDERS CLEAR AND UNDERSTOOD?" Nabiros shouted.

"SIR, YES, SIR!" Valerie and Konrad felt like they were back in boot camp again, standing at attention.

"Alright, just stop shouting..." Tekka grumbled.

" **We will keep an eye on everyone while you are away.** " Hecate said soothingly. " _Give Vorazun our regards in case you meet her._ **We eagerly await your return.** And her reaction."

"Very well then." Nabiros was satisfied with the improved attitude. He turned to Valerian. "I will endeavour to return as soon as I am able. En Taro Adun."

"Best of luck." Valerian wished him well. Nabiros took a last glance at his crew, and for a moment he shined with pride, then he turned away and walked out of the room.

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.07

 **Location:** Aiur, Orbital Defense Platform, Docking Bay 5  
 **Time:** Late afternoon

Nabiros found it amusing that a day and a month ago he set out on his journey from the very same docking bay. To him it felt like a lifetime ago, so many things have happened since then. He imagined that Tekka would make a comment on this, which would provoke Hecate to reminisce about old times. Valerie would start asking questions about a million things, and Konrad would look like the happiest Terran in the sector amidst such technological and engineering marvels. Nabiros felt a warmth in his soul - he loved his crew dearly. He laughed to himself as he walked down the ramp of his ship, thinking about all the fun stories they would tell him when he got back.

"You seem to be in a good mood, phase-smith." said a person who he did not notice in his musing. It turned out to be Hierarch Artanis.

Nabiros almost slipped in surprise. "Oh! Err! Hierarch! What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you here! You honour me!"

Artanis laughed. "I had the time, for once, so I decided to come out here and greet you in person. Walk with me, we have much to discuss."

Nabiros rushed down to him and gestured forward. "Lead on, Hierarch." after a few moments, Nabiros couldn't take the silence anymore. "How may I be of service, Hierarch?"

Artanis' expression turned serious. "There is a problem that I would rather not attempt to resolve without your council, since it is your area of expertise." Nabiros' circuits froze for a moment is shock. The only area he could claim to be uniquely experienced in was getting into trouble, but that surely was not the issue here, he hoped. "As the stress of the war and the pressure of rebuilding slowly subside, personal motivations start to take their place. Some are commendable, others less so, but the ambiguous ones are the worst. The resurrection of the Khala is a popular topic of discussion, one that I cannot understand why, but that is not why I called you here."

"I thought we outgrew the Khala." Nabiros remarked with a hint of critical disappointment in his voice.

"As have I." Artanis nodded, sharing his opinion. They entered a teleportation chamber that connected the orbital platform with the planet below. Artanis typed something on the interface, then in a flash of light, they were in an identical chamber, somewhere on Aiur. "Getting back on topic, I would like to know your perspective on the identity of the Purifiers. I know you have set out to find the answer for this question and that not much time has passed since then, but fate seems to have given you no more."

"Why?" Nabiros was worried, partially because they were walking in a civilian quarter. Nothing seemed to be wrong, but something was out of place that Nabiros couldn't identify. "What happened?"

"When a number of people became aware that the Purifiers were built with the imprint of an existing person, they eventually found a complete list of every Purifier still alive." Artanis explained. "They were looking for their ancestors, old friends, and loved ones in general, who might have survived in the form of a Purifier. It is no surprise in retrospect, considering that those who became dragoons often returned to their families when duty permitted, and Purifiers are not that different. Superficially at least."

"A chance to meet loved ones thought lost would make anyone disregard probability and leap at an opportunity." Nabiros had his own list of people he would want alive. It wasn't long, but the war against Amon took what few friends he had. Only Tekka survived.

"I'm glad you understand." Artanis said in a tone that Nabiros found suspicious for some reason. They reached the entrance of a small house with a small garden (by Protoss standards at least). "When you are done here, come find me in the Citadel of the Executors."

"What do you m..." Nabiros tried to ask but the Hierarch vanished in a puff of silky smoke. "What is going on here?" he asked the empty space where Artanis had been a moment ago.

The door opened a little, revealing a young Protoss girl in her early teens, barely half as tall as Nabiros. She looked suspiciously happy to see him. "Welcome!" her blue eyes were glowing with joy as she opened the door completely. "Come in!" she turned back towards the interior of the house. "Grandmother, he's here!"

Nabiros temporarily switched to autopilot until his circuits could make sense of what was going on. He entered the house, barely aware of the pictures on the wall and the oddly modern guest room, with its cushions in place of chairs, and a short slab of marble instead of a table. A helpfully diverting thought reminded him that these became popular after the reclamation of Aiur, since a lot of Khalai refugees got used to sitting around a campfire for warmth at night in ruins or in nature, and the Nerazim had a long tradition in the design as well, which a lot people across cultures found pleasant and comfortable, not to mention a welcome change. However, the sight of an ancient Protoss woman entering the guest room from what must have been her own shocked him back into reality.

"Tyrali..." all Nabiros could manage was a whisper.

"I'm glad you still recognise me, father." the woman chuckled. "I've grown quite old since we last met."

Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle snapped together, and Nabiros was overwhelmed with pain, grief, and shame. He was in pain because he had to tell her the truth, he felt grief because she will experience the death of her father a second time, and shame that he not only had no other choice, but he would be the cause of all of it. He could barely bring himself to talk. "I'm sorry, but... but you are mistaken." he couldn't even look her in the eye. "I am not... he."

Nabiros noticed the slightly shrunken, old lady stepping right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He couldn't look away. He saw a daughter he had memories of, and those memories loved her more than anything. He remembered that there was a phase-smith who volunteered for the first Purifier program, so that there would be a part of him that would always look after his daughter, that the joy of his life would be protected, that she would have a future, whatever happened after his death. A guardian angel, tireless, ageless, and relentless, who would always be there when needed. He also saw in Tyrali's eyes the love she had for her father, and the longing to be with him again, for however long she has left in life.

"You may not be flesh and blood." she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. "But you are still my father."

Nabiros felt compelled to hug her close, to tell her that everything will be alright, that he will neve leave her again, the Judicators be damned. But he knew that it was a reflex rooted in his memories - memories he possessed but was not the author of. He felt the pressure of centuries of life demanding his own several months of life to submit to its supremacy, and for the love of Adun hold her close and never let go. But he knew it would be wrong, he knew it would be fake. He would become a cheap simulacrum of the man who raised the daughter he saw before him, and neither of them deserved to be lied to, not after all the hardships they endured. He felt a sudden surge of certainty and clarity, and he stepped on a path that was hard, painful, but pure and true. He would endure, not because he could but because he had to. That was who he was, that was what he believed in: honour and integrity, without remorse, without regret, without pause, but with mercy, openness, and understanding.

Nabiros gently put his hands on her shoulders, and tried his best at a reassuring smile with his visor. "Tyrali, please understand. I am not Abrinos, your father. I was made with his memories, but even he knew that we would never be the same. His wish was for someone to keep you safe, to guard the joy in your eye." Tyrali looked devastated, but Nabiros wasn't finished. "However, since I was built using some of his own parts, then, in a sense, I'm your brother." Tyrali stared at him in surprise, and a bit like he was an idiot. "Half-brother, to be specific, since we don't share a mother, but I do look good for someone who is only a few years old altogether."

Tyrali just stared for a few moments, then burst into tears and laughter, and hugged Nabiros close. He had got used to it recently, so he returned the hug almost immediately. "Father couldn't tell a joke to save his life, so you really are not him." she said.

"Imagine my surprise." Nabiros deadpanned. Tyrali started laughing even harder, and he couldn't help but join. He heard a young, girly giggle a bit of a distance away.

Tyrali looked up at him, face covered in tears but eyes shining with happiness. "I never would have thought that I would have a little at this age."

"Fate has a way of keeping life interesting." Nabiros was keenly aware of his experience on the subject, and had a feeling he would gain much, much more. He gently let go of Tyrali and turned to the girl standing awkwardly in a doorway to the right. "That means you are my niece." he walked to her and knelt down to face her. "I am Nabiros, what is your name?"

"Antorel." the girl said shyly.

"Like the one from the musical?" Nabiros was endlessly amused.

"Mom and dad met on a concert, that's why, they said." she looked a little sad as she said that, and Nabiros immediately knew not to ask where they are.

"That is a good name, and a good omen!" Nabiros picked her up like a doll and put her on his neck. She was surprised at first but quickly found her balance in the saddle so to speak. "Except for the boys, but it's not like we care, right?" he asked, looking up. Antorel's blush spoke volumes. "Oooh, there already is a boy, isn't there?" the blush only got worse, and Antorel covered her face with her hands. "Come on, you can tell uncle Nabiros, it's not like I have any advice to give to embarrass you with."

Tyrali and Antorel laughed, and Nabiros felt a strong, proud warmth in his heart: he might not be who they thought he was, but he could still be himself and still watch over them. He hoped that somewhere, wherever he was, the spirit of Abrinos felt reassured and satisfied that his dearest wish finally came true.

Just as he finished the thought, he heard a beeping sound from both Tyrali's and Antorel's room, and a blinking icon appeared on his HUD, indicating an urgent message. He put the girl down so they could both see what was going on, and he opened the message. It was automated, and came through the news network, just a routine check away from the observer who sent out the distress signal.

***Zerg Leviathans incoming. All civilians report to the nearest shelter. All Templar to your stations **.** ***


	22. Chapter 20

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.07

 **Location:** Aiur, Citadel of the Executors  
 **Time:** Evening

After making sure that Antorel and Tyrali got to the local shelter safely, Nabiros rushed towards the Citadel of the Executors. With the state of emergency instated, traffic was prioritised to Templar getting to their stations and civilians getting to their shelters, so it took a while until Nabiros could teleport to the vicinity of the Citadel. At roughly 70 km/h, he ran to find Artanis as ordered. Fortunately, the guards were told to expect him, so they let him through without stopping him. After a few minutes of searching and asking around, he found Artanis in a corridor, talking with his Executors, who looked up at the sound of his bullrush.

"Nabiros?" Talandar said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Please tell me you have something to do with this." Yalara pleaded. "I'm in need of a good laugh."

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Executor Yalara, but I know nothing of this." Nabiros said as he slowed down to avoid crashing into them. "I am here because Hierarch Artanis asked me to come. What is going on?"

"Nothing as bad as you'd think." Artanis tried to calm everyone down. "Three Leviathans appeared not far from Aiur an hour ago. A Broodmother by the name of Kilysa contacted us, saying that there is a matter of great importance that the Swarm would like to discuss with the Dominion and the Daelaam, close to Tarsonis, as soon as possible. We contacted Emperor Valerian, who was also visited by three Leviathans, lead by Broodmother Ryloth, and given the exact same message. He is also discussing it with his advisors, to decide whether or not we should attend."

"That's easy, send me and my crew." Nabiros said without thinking. "We are on good terms with Emperor Valerian, so he would surely agree, and we could use my ship as a conduit for a holographic conference. Worst case scenario is that we die after taking a lot of Zerg with us, best case scenario is we find out what the Swarm wants. If we lose we it was cost efficient, if we win, we win a lot."

The Executors and Artanis stared at him for a moment, like he was insane, but they were getting used to it.

"Very well." Artanis seemed less than pleased, and when the Executors wanted to protest for one reason or another, he raised his hand to stop them from wasting his time and patience. "You will go ahead, pick up your ship, go to Tarsonis, and tell the Zerg that we will discuss whatever they wish using holographic images. I will take the Spear of Adun to Korhal, and pick up Emperor Valerian so we need not waste our time trying to adapt to Terran technology. Meanwhile, we will make sure we have enough observers between the two locations to ensure a stable connection for the holographic projections, as well as a dimensional recall in case anything goes wrong." Artanis seemed nervous, the kind soldiers have when they are going to a fight they know they could win but not without great cost. "I hope I'm overreacting, and Zagara truly only wishes to talk."

"As do we all." Selendis put a reassuring hand on Artanis' shoulder. Yalara stayed silent and let the Templar play out their drama. Sometimes it was hard for her to believe that just a few months ago these people were instrumental in slaying a god, twice.

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.08

 **Location:** Korhal, in orbit, Skyshield orbital defense platform  
 **Time:** Morning

Fortunately, the control tower's personnel were told about Nabiros' ship, so they guided him to a docking bay where he could land without incident. The woman he spoke with was a little nervous, though considering the circumstances it was perfectly normal. As he landed, he saw that his crew was already waiting for him, though he had no idea why Valerie and Konrad were pushing large carts. He lowered the ramp and rushed out to meet them. By the time he reached the ship's cargo bay they were already inside and Tekka pushed a few buttons on the local small terminal to raise the ramp.

"I'm sorry that your vacation was cut short but we have something much more useful to do." Nabiros skipped the pleasantries, as glad as he was to see them unharmed. "Did Emperor Valerian tell you what is going on and what we are up to?"

"Yea, textbook suicide mission." Konrad groaned. "I didn't sign up for this."

"Have faith, Konrad!" Nabiros felt a little offended. "Do you honestly think that if I believed that there was a real chance for us to die, I would lead you there without giving you a chance to leave?"

"Why do you think we will be safe?" Valerie asked.

"If the Zerg wanted to start a war, they would have struck already, and not waste time like this." Nabiros explained. "If they wanted to use this ploy to assassinate Emperor Valerian and Hierarch Artanis, then they would only reveal that by killing us. Besides, if Zerg want you dead they don't waste time on tricks like this, they charge at your home and they won't stop until either you or they are dead."

The crew looked at each other, slowly nodding. "Yeah, that makes sense." Konrad said, a little ashamed. "I didn't mean to sound like an ass, I just want to live a little longer."

"I understand." Nabiros said reassuringly. "But what is in those carts?"

"A month's worth of stuff for the two of us." Valerie said.

"And before you remember you forgot, I already installed the disintegrator boxes in their rooms." Tekka looked real smug. "And those 'shower' things too."

Nabiros stared for a moment. "Yes, I remember now, you have a little phase-smith training from I don't want to know where. Thank you for you work. Settle in, we are going to Tarsonis."

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.08

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit  
 **Time:** Evening

"No matter how many times I see them, they still look amazingly, terrifyingly fuckhuge." Konrad confessed, looking at the screens.

The entire crew was crammed into the tiny bridge of the ship, even with Valerie and Konrad not wearing their suits. Tensions were high, for good reason. Seven Leviathans, ranging from 'several times the size of a Protoss Mothership', to 'the size of a small moon', were in close formation above Tarsonis, and the hilariously tiny Explorer was heading straight toward them. Suddenly, one of the screens started buzzing.

"Incoming transmission." Tekka reported. "Putting it on main viewer."

The main screen, in front and a little above Nabiros came to life, and after a brief chaotic buzzing, it revealed the face of Alexei Stukov, who looked somewhat tense.

"Protoss vessel, identify yourself." Stukov asked sternly.

"This is the Explorer, scout ship of the Daelaam." Nabiros sounded very official. "I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers. I am under orders to use my ship as a conduit for long-range holographic projection. Hierarch Artanis and Emperor Valerian decided to use this method of communication for this occasion."

The infested admiral laughed and looked relieved. "That is smart and cautious of them, I would have done the same. Very well, it will do. Notify your navigator to follow the waypoints, it will lead you to one of the Leviathans'... docking bays, for lack of a better word. I will meet you there, alone, and we can talk more on your ship. Is that acceptable?"

"Absolutely." Nabiros was compelled to speak his mind. "It is an honour to have you on board, Admiral. I've seen you plenty of times in the Void, and you have my utmost respect. And I have two other crewmembers who would be overjoyed to meet you again."

"That is interesting." Stukov looked amused if a little surprised and confused. "Thank you. I will meet you shortly." the transmission ended.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod..." Valerie was shivering with excitement, and held onto Konrad with a crushing grip, who looked exactly the same.

"Holy shit, it's Stukov!" Konrad squealed.

"I get the impression you have met him before." Tekka wasn't even surprised.

"Bet your ass!" Konrad got way enthusiastic. "He saved our ass back on Korhal, when Kerrigan wrecked the place. He was so cool and amazing! And I don't even have vodka! Hold on, I gotta check my stash!" the man squeezed out of the room and rushed off.

"What is 'vodka'?" Tekka asked.

"A kind of drink some Terrans enjoy." Valerie said quickly. "After that time on Korhal, Konrad and I spent months to find some ex-UED mercenaries who knew the man, and we did. We met a horribly scarred guy who used to be a captain in the army under Stukov, but quickly rose through the ranks, so he soon got his orders directly from Admiral duGalle, leader of the UED expedition force and Stukov's close friend. Among other things, he told us that the man had a special place in his heart for vodka. Aw man, I should have guessed that he would be doing the talking and not Zagara, why didn't I think of that, we could have stolen a bunch of vodka... Are we really going into that?"

"Yes." Nabiros wasn't happy either.

"If photos of this gets out, there will be Leviathan-porn, lots of it." Valerie was feeling a little sick.

"What is porn?" Tekka asked on cue.

"This is not the time to explain that." Valerie put a hand before her mouth. "Okay, I'll be down in the cargo bay, I don't want to see the docking." she left quickly.

"It's nothing compared to a trip through a Nydus Worm." Nabiros remarked.

"I still can't believe it worked." Tekka shook her head.

"Those immortals and dragoons that came with us didn't want to believe it happened." Nabiros chuckled.

Tekka laughed. "I remember they were so glad they could vent the trauma out on the void beasts."

"And then they had to live with the knowledge that they just saved the Zerg base from being overrun." Nabiros laughed as well.

"The interior looks much better, it's like someone made rooms and hangars out of a huge creature's internal organs." Tekka noted. "Now that I think of it, that's the case. Oh look, there's Stukov."

"Yes, I can see him." Nabiros turned his voice to a whisper. "I didn't want to tell Valerie and Konrad, but I'm excited to meet him too."

" **He looks disgusting.** " Hecate said flatly.

"That's rich coming from a Dark Archon." Tekka quipped.

"... _We deserved that._ "

"I know." Tekka said happily.

"Time to act professionally, you two." Nabiros said sternly. "We are on a diplomatic mission, in case you missed the hints."

" **We will leave our hammer in our room.** " Hecate put on a show for Nabiros to see how thoughtful it could be.

"That is a good start." Nabiros' tone left no doubt that he is expecting flawless behaviour. He lead the Protoss detachment to greet Stukov at the ramp.

That all went down the drain when he saw that Valerie and Konrad were already chatting with the Admiral in the cargo bay. Their excitement was palpable, and Stukov himself seemed to enjoy the good kind of attention for once. It was hard for Nabiros to blame the man but he was a little annoyed that his fresh recruits lowered the ramp without his permission.

"Aah, yes, the invasion of Korhal." the infested Admiral reminisced with a wide smile. "I remember, laying siege to it for the first time was a headache but I quite enjoyed it the second time."

"We could tell." Konrad was grinning ear to ear.

"I'm glad you two fine soldiers survived." Stukov looked them in the eye, as if they were his own and he was their commanding officer. He noticed Nabiros and the others entering the cargo bay via the heavy-duty elevator that connected the ship's decks. Not a single muscle on his torn face moved an inch upon seeing Hecate. "Captain, I was just talking with your crew here. I'm glad they are enjoying their work, it would have been a shame to waste them on guard duty on some outpost."

"I had the exact same thought as well, Admiral." Nabiros found a strange sense of satisfaction in Stukov's validation of his choice of crewmembers but he had no time to muse on the emotion. "Allow me to introduce the rest of my crew. This is Tekka, librarian of the Tal'darim, and this is Hecate, Archon of the Nerazim."

"The three-faced goddess of magic of the ancient Greeks?" Stukov was pleasantly surprised. "A fitting name. How many of you are in there? It is hard to tell but I'm sure it is more than just two."

" **There are twelve of us here, Admiral.** " Hecate bowed slightly.

"There is no need for formality." Stukov raised his right hand slightly. "As much as I hunger for a decent conversation, we shouldn't keep Valerian and Artanis waiting."

"Absolutely." Nabiros gestured toward the elevator. "Right this way."

The top deck of the ship was designed as a place of meditation and relaxation, and as such, its floor was covered in soft blue carpet with complex golden patterns relaxing to the eye. The ceiling of the room could become translucent at first glance but with a single leap of common sense it was obvious that it was only a very accurate holographic replica of what could be seen if there really were no ceiling, based on the ship's sensors. For everyone's relief, it wasn't active right now, leaving the roof a simple gold that is so common among the Protoss. Two short, circular platfroms could be seen in one end of the room, several cables connecting it to the ship's own systems.

"A fine ship, Captain." Stukov was impressed. "You have no idea how much I miss having my own ship. Leviathans might make battlecruisers look like interceptors but there is nothing like the cold, hard steel of a proper ship beneath your feet, and the thunder of its cannons."

"Thank you, Admiral." Nabiros chuckled inside, since he had no time to install all the upgrades he had planned. That will be truly worthy of praise. "But taking command of a battlecruiser after a Leviathan seems like several steps back."

Stukov chuckled. "Yes, commanding the firepower of a Leviathan is a feeling like nothing else. But to be honest, I'd rather have a slice of home than all the power in the universe."

"Speaking of home..." Konrad pulled a large glass bottle out of one of his deep pockets. A dark orange-ish liquid sloshed in it quietly. "Valerie and I met some old UED soldiers working as mercenaries, and they told us that you like a bottle of brandy every now and then. We would have brought vodka if we knew we would meet you here." Konrad pulled out a small cardboard box, and with Valerie's help, he pulled out a cognac glass, and offered it and the bottle to Stukov. "Please, take these as our thanks for saving our lives back then."

For a few moments, Stukov looked caught completely off-guard. He seemed like an old soldier, too disfigured by war to ever return home, receiving a gift from the faraway lands of his birth, a piece of constancy through his turbulent life that connected all periods of his past into a single whole. He looked at that bottle of brandy with love and longing not for what it looked upon, but what it saw: a past life thought lost, a part of identity thought dead. He breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, partially to compose himself, partially to help process the experience.

Stukov took the bottle with his infested left and the glass with his gloved right, slowly and carefully not to break them or the emotion that burned within him. "It is hard to express how I missed a good drink. Brandy was Gerard's favourite but I will enjoy it all the same. Thank you."

Konrad and Valerie were on the verge of tears, but with an effort of will, Valerie managed to speak. "You are more than welcome, Admiral."

Stukov seemed puzzled at first but he came to a conclusion a moment later. "I will save it for a better time." he looked around, looking for something. "There is no table here to put these, could you hold them for me? I don't think Valerian would be happy to see me with these."

"Of course!" Konrad took the bottle and the glass with a grin. Nabiros thought that he would have an easier time pulling a tank out of a living Ultralisk's mouth than taking those from Konrad. Nabiros couldn't tell if the man was handsome or not by Terran standards, but there was something ineffably precious in his smile that, if lost, would make the stars glow dimmer. Nabiros was getting worried about his emotional stability.

Stukov stood before the two holographic projectors, his hands in the pockets of his coat. In a blink, he was the infested Admiral once again, with a casual aura of power and authority few beings in the world possessed. "I am ready, Captain."

"At once." Nabiros commanded the ship's comm systems with a single thought to open a channel to the Spear of Adun. Being a Purifier was very convenient.

In a few seconds, the two projectors bloomed to life, and the holographic forms of Valerian and Artanis appeared on top of them.

"Gentlemen, I am glad to see you again, though I'm sure the feeling is not mutual." Stukov said with sarcasm.

"The Zerg Swarm's reputation has room for improvement." Valerian seemed half serious, half joking. Artanis remained a bastion of barely witheld comments and scrutiny.

Stukov laughed briefly. "I understand and do not blame you. However, our relations is not the topic right now. If we succeed in this endeavour, then we can talk more." his expression turned serious. "The Feral Zerg have long nested on Tarsonis, making it a perfect testing ground for new strains. During one such test, the Feral Zerg acted in an unusually coordinated manner, making us suspect that there is a mind guiding them. Remote reconnaissance revealed a strong psychic presence almost a kilometer below the capitol city. As a test of our theory, we launched small attacks across the surface of the planet, and while the response was less than professional, it was nonetheless organised." he paused for a few moments to let the information sink in. "We believe that an unusually powerful hybrid, or maybe a small group of them have taken control of the Feral Zerg of Tarsonis."

"We could bombard the planet from orbit until all lifesigns disappear." Hierarch Artanis said coldly, distrustful of the infested Admiral and guessing at his true agenda.

"I cannot allow that." Emperor Valerian looked surprised at Artanis' response. "Tarsonis was the capitol of the Confederacy, the predecessor of the Terran Dominion. It is the closest thing we have to a homeworld in the absence of Earth. I will not allow it to be obliterated." he turned to Stukov. "However, these Feral Zerg still cannot leave the planet en masse, regardless how the hybrid landed there. They are no threat."

"The Feral Zerg on Tarsonis have an outdated genepool, that much is true. They cannot create Leviathans." Stukov nodded. "They can, however, create Behemoths, the predecessors of the Leviathans. We cannot be certain, but the chance is there. Still, they have hybrid with them, whose abilities are not entirely clear to either of us. For all we know, they could create an entire fleet of spacefaring hybrid monstrosities with the infrastructure of the Feral Zerg. After all, they have an entire planet's worth of resources to work with."

Silence settled on the room, as those present had various images floating past their eyes. The hybrid had few disadvantages, mainly low numbers and inability to leave a planet without support from their thralls. If they could somehow overcome them then the death of Amon would have meant very little in the end.

"What is it you propose?" Emperor Valerian asked cautiously.

"The Swarm is willing to assist in retaking Tarsonis for the Dominion, but not without help from the Dominion and the Daelaam." Stukov said flatly. "If we succeed without backstabbing or other incidents, we can talk more."

"What is there to talk about?" Artanis was still feeling distrustful. He trusted Kerrigan after their meeting in Ulnaar, but not the rest of the Swarm, and least of all the creature of Narud.

Stukov slowly smiled, enjoying his next move. "Tarsonis would be a fitting place for the Koprulu Embassy, don't you think?"

Artanis' and Valerian's eyes went wide in surprise at first, but they quickly composed themselves.

"Are we to understand that the Zerg want peace?" Artanis asked in disbelief.

"And engage in diplomacy?" Valerian was also shocked but his expression revealed hope for a moment.

"What could we gain from warring with you?" Stukov asked, like it was obvious. "The Swarm has no interest in Terran or Protoss essence, one is weak and we had enough of, the other is impossible to collect and ends in hybrid abominations even the Zerg find disgusting. Collecting biomass and raw resources from uninhabited planets is much more cost efficient than a genocidal war we are unlikely to win at all." his tone suddenly turned serious. "You also seem to have forgotten about the United Earth Directorate. They could invade at any time, and I can assure you, they will bring a much larger fleet than last time. We cannot survive their invasion if we are not prepared."

"Yes, that is also something to consider." Emperor Valerian nodded, deep in thought, looking at the ground before him. After a moment, he looked back at Stukov. "What is it that you want then? What are you after?"

"I'm not allowed to tell that." Stukov said, sounding a little disappointed, as if he wished he could tell. "However, if we can take Tarsonis together then we can talk more. Hopefully, as equals."

"Neither of us can make this decision on our own." Artanis sounded a degree more friendly than before. "We will return to you as soon as we are able. In the meantime, we will send our own expedition fleets to investigate Tarsonis. We trust that they will be unharmed."

"You have my word." Stukov looked resolute.

Artanis looked like he wanted to comment on that but Valerian cut in before he could speak. "Then we have an agreement. We will talk again soon, Admiral. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"Thank you, and best of luck." Stukov tipped his hat and the projectors' light flickered away. The Admiral took a deep breath, looking relieved.

Behind him, Nabiros pulled his crew together. "I have an idea to speed things up and save a few thousand lives, are you interested?"

"We are going to check that nest out, aren't we?" Valerie looked like she already considered herself dead.

"Yes, but hear me out first..." and then he explained his idea.

His crew wished he hadn't. They blamed Artanis for everything.


	23. Chapter 21

I highly recommend googling "starcraft size chart", it's highly educational, and makes a part of this episode easier to understand.

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.08

 **Location:** Tarsonis, Tarsonis City ruins  
 **Time:** 32 minutes after the holo-conference

"This is creepy." Valerie whispered. "And surreal."

"This is the optimal formation for Hecate's shroud." Nabiros whispered back up. "Stop complaining."

"Look, I've hid under several cubic meters of dead Zerg before." Valerie sounded upset. "But this group hug feels even more stifling."

" **We apologise.** " Hecate didn't sound apologetic at all. Quite the contrary. " **While our normal glowing sphere is no longer visible, it is still very much there. In a sense, you are all within our body.** "

"Not. Helping." Valerie said as she held on despite her protests, while Konrad's face was shifting between various expressions of disgust, horror, and discomfort.

The majority of Nabiros' inner voices were annoying with the unnecessary complaints but the rest understood it very well. Integral to their plan for their "opportunistic expedition" into the vast tunnel system below Tarsonis City, Hecate had to maintain a psionic cloaking field that would hide them from prying eyes. Naturally, the smaller the field, the less effort it took to maintain it. Therefore, Nabiros ordered his crew to stay as close to Hecate as physically possible. Since the Terrans couldn't sync their steps with anyone else, they were on the Archon's two sides: Konrad on the left, Valerie on the right. To maintain proximity, to quote Hecate, it put its cannon arm around Konrad's shoulders, and put its otherworldly black hand on Valerie's right shoulder. Being the most durable, Nabiros walked exactly before it - Hecate even tried bumping its heads into Nabiros' own but they fell through and messed with the Purifier's circuits, who not amused, not when in combat gear that could explode with enough force to send their atoms flying at such point blank range. Tekka left everyone to their drama and followed Hecate like its living shadow, always just narrowly avoiding stepping on the Archon's robes. She wondered if it's possible to step on them at all. She decided not to test it.

" **Aah, this reminds us of the times we carried our children on our backs.** " Hecate's happy reminiscence was genuine this time.

"You have children?" Valerie found this notion to be deeply disturbing. The possibility of more Protoss like these Nerazim was terrifying.

" **We had.** " Hecate's suddenly quiet voice was foreboding.

"What are they doing now?" Valerie decided to ask anyway.

" **Whatever it is that the dead do.** " the Archon's heads looked down, their usual brimming energy now the watery flow of a shallow pond. " **Long life is not as good as your culture imagines it to be, and immortality is even worse.** "

"It is immensely ironic that you're discussing mortality in this particular situation." Nabiros chided them. "Our lives are at stake here. Overconfidence claimed Aiur and Amon. I expected you to have learnt that lesson by now."

Nobody felt like responding. The mood was gloomy and tense, as they slowly walked down and down and sometimes up in the labyrinthian tunnels. After a while it was obvious that Hecate is leading them away from roaming Feral Zerg, as their chittering and hissing always seemed to pass them by. Although the tunnels varied in height and width, the sheer weight of the rock and earth above them slowly creeped into their minds. The pitch black darkness seemed eerie even with their enhanced vision, fertile soil for the dark thoughts provoked by the claustrophoby that chewed at their minds, imperceptibly like a river chiseling away at its bed. Nabiros clutched at the two scarab hosts he was carrying in his arms nervously. The Terrans fidgeted, jerking at the random sounds of rolling pebbles and distant shrieks. Hecate was too busy with focusing on its job and grieving for loved ones long lost. Only Tekka walked with her usual confident stride, the many tunnels feeling like a highway to her that she could navigate to go anywhere she pleased. She felt like a predator in its natural habitat.

After an hour spent walking in complete silence, Hecate spoke up in surprise. " **Stop.** " the team stopped where they stood at the sudden command. " **This isn't a hybrid.** "

"Explain." Nabiros turned around to face it.

The Archon's heads looked around, as if the answer was painted on the rocks. " **It is... a choir of voices. A bad one. It is like a child made of children that is still learning how to do what. Very basic. Very straightforward. Clumsy, rather.** "

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like a hybrid." Konrad nodded in agreement. "Could it be a device of some sort? Does it sound... erm... mechanical? Or synthetic?"

At first the Archon looked at Konrad askingly but then caught on to what he meant. After a bit of consideration, it shook its heads in unison. " **We do not believe so.** _Then again, we have little experience with technology like that._ We can't shake the feeling that it's a... haphazardly organic entity. It is hard to make sense of, much less explain."

"What on earth could it be?" Valerie was trying to think of something but to no avail.

"We could always go and find out." Tekka suggested suspiciously enthusiastically. "It sounds more disturbing than dangerous."

"Tekka speaks truly." Nabiros agreed. "Our mission just became more important than it originally was."

"And interesting." Tekka's happyness was annoying everyone else.

"Return to formation." Nabiros commanded. "We continue onward."

" **We should also add that there is a sizable amount of combat-ready biomass in the cavern the entity resides in.** " Hecate sounded like this wasn't particularly important but didn't want to be lazy.

"A hive, probably." Konrad muttered angrily. "Great."

"Don't worry, we just take a peek then get out." Valerie said, hoping that this is the kind of situation when Nabiros is relying on them to rein in his insanity.

" **Quiet. We are getting close.** " Hecate growled at them.

The Archon was probably lying because they walked for half an hour before reaching one of the cavern's many entrances. Still, it made sense considering they had no idea how well Zerg can hear underground. They usually met them in combat, so they never had to think about it before. The lack of creep in the tunnels was curious as well.

Yet, this educational thought got shoved to the sides in their minds as they carefully looked inside the very large cavern. Two hatcheries could be seen on the two sides of the oblong room, a small army of basic Zerg combat strains, and a Brood War era ultralisk. Truth be told, in comparison to the Swarm's proper hive clusters this looked like an understaffed retirement home, but without a proper army behind their backs it was rather alarming. However, what really got their attention was the... thing that was bathing in a spawning pool, seemingly customised for its size.

The thing was roughly the size of a Brood War era ultralisk, and looked like someone grabbed the biggest queens and overlords in the neighbourhood, piled them up, glued them together with creep, then poured acid on it that provoked every individual member of the thing to mutate in various but mostly disgusting ways, turning the thing into a heavily mutated but still unfinished centipede that was very large and extremely fat. To top it all off, most of the faces still intact were looking outward, the eyes glowing with a kind of introspective emptiness. Altogether, the thing looked like the dumpster of an illegal bio-lab performing horrible live experiments that somehow evolved into a purplish-greyish Lovecraftian blob with creepy orange christmas lights on.

"I don't know what that is but we must put it out of its misery." Valerie thought she saw a few overlord heads in the thing, their mouts open in a mute scream of agony. Konrad nodded in agreement.

" **We must slay that abomination.** " Hecate's voice dripped with disgust.

"I cannot let this cavern left unpurged." Nabiros declared. "Nor will we. Listen." he allowed his crew a moment to slowly pull their eyes away from the thing. "Hecate, you take the ultralisk. I know I didn't let you take your hammer, and I regret it now, but..."

" **Nabiros, please...** " Hecate chuckled. " **We are not nearly far enough to be separated from out beloved instrument of justice. We will take on the ultralisk, do not worry. It is large, we admit that, but that only means it will take longer, and that... is good.** "

"... alright." Nabiros wasn't even surprised anymore. "Just make sure you keep the cavern intact. Tekka, your task is to slay that monstrosity. Konrad and I will clean out the close ones with explosion and flame. Valerie will take care of the hydralisks that stayed far from us. Let's try and save the scarab hosts for when we leave but they will be in reserve." Nabiros took a quick look at the terrain and the cave walls. "We will draw them to this entrance. Konrad and I will stay on the ground, Valerie can pick her vantage spot. Hecate, try and draw the ultralisk away from us so we won't get trampled by accident. Once we have their attention, Tekka can sneak in and deliver the killing blow. When we are absolutely sure that the abomination is dead we run to our ship as fast as we can, using the scarab hosts to clear our way. Is that clear?"

"It's good on paper, we'll see how it goes in action." Konrad nodded slowly, summing up the thoughts of the crew.

"Good." Nabiros' voice was getting excited. "Hecate, we begin on your mark."

The Archon slowly floated above their heads, and Valerie leapt-climbed onto a slab of rock jutting out of the cavern's wall. Tekka vanished from their eyes. Konrad and Nabiros stood in the wide entrance, grenade launchers and incendiary beams ready. Hecate giggled: none of them were aware of the skillset specific to Dark Archons. It was time for a small demonstration.

Powering up its cannon drew the thing's attention, but the shroud gave the Archon the few more seconds it needed. It aimed its warped cannon at the ultralisk and let loose a lance of incandescent void energy, hitting its right shoulder. The carapace cracked a little and the surface area was burned, but ultimately all it did was piss off a very large killing machine. The beast roared in surprise, mild pain, but mostly anger, and in that same moment Hecate dropped the shroud.

The cavern swiftly echoed with the cries of hundreds of bloodthirsty zerglings and hydralisks, who collectively turned to face the intruders that appeared so suddenly. Like a tidal wave of flesh and claw, they rushed towards the Terran and Protoss on the ground... or would have, if the ultralisk had not started chasing that weird red thing in the air, trampling dozens of Zerg in its wake and forcing the rest to brake their charge and carefully move around the huge stomping feet.

Konrad raised his twin grenade launchers and sent incendiary grenades into the denser ranks, blowing apart a few, setting dozens on fire. Shrieks of pain rang between the cavern walls, but the rest leapt towards them with vengeance. Nabiros raised his arms, the yellow crystals on his back and arms hummed and glowed, then white-hot lightning leapt forward in a white arc, melting or evaporating what it touched, setting on fire what it got near to. The slightly modified incendiary beam left burning husks at best, leaving none to reach the duo.

Hydralisks in the back tried in vain to reach a good position to shoot from, and opted for cover instead. Without the dramatic entourage of thunder, Valerie's railgun silently tore through the heads of any hydralisk who was not in cover, and her rate of fire allowed 1 dead spine-spitter every 3 seconds. Then she tried shooting them behind cover, and with glee she noticed that the railgun doesn't care much for even half a meter of solid rock. Some of the hydralisks turned their attention to her, forcing her to find a spot with more cover. The hydralisks were still screaming and dying for some reason though, and a quick zoom on the corpses revealed wounds and general dismemberment inflicted by a psi blade or two. Valerie smiled to herself: Tekka is too proud not to cut a bloody path to the thing.

However, the Zerg were still many, and for all their coordination and quality weaponry, they were just two Terrans and one Protoss. The tide swelled, and Konrad and Nabiros would be overrun in seconds. Hecate finished baiting the ultralisk into the hatchery on the right, and used the brief pause in its game to show off.

" **THOUGHTS IN CHAOS!** " Hecate shouted with arm raised, and for a moment, the air around the Zerg on the ground rippled unnaturally. In the next second, the Zerg reached a new level of rage and leapt at each other in wild abandon. With a very large fight braking out before them, the rest joined in reflexively, thus bringing the entire wave to a halt, as the front was turned to ash, the middle to shreds, and what little remained in the back had only seconds left to live.

Seconds later, Tekka appeared out of thin air above the horrid thing, already falling down upon it with blades drawn, like a silver star with red fangs. A psychic scream of panic and pain tore through the cavern as her arms turned into a blur, shredding the flesh and the odd limb making a futile attempt at self-defense. Maddened by the slow and painful dying of their master, the Zerg went completely mad, venting their anger on the nearest living thing.

Hecate saw that it was time to finish up with its own task, and called forth its beloved hammer. Silky smoke and crimson lightning whirled around its raised hand, and after a few moments, the hammer appeared in all its glory. The ultralisk pulled itself and a lot of guts out of the hatchery, turning back to the target of its all-eclipsing hatred. Hecate swiftly flew atop the creature, landing on its large carapace. Sensing the intruder, the ultralisk started jumping and wiggling as best as it could to shake off the shining red insect. Hecate raised the hammer, and with a heartfelt desire to brutalise, smashed it into the carapace. It cracked but it held, and the ultralisk seemed dizzy for a moment - unfortunately, long enough for the next hammer swing, that cracked open the carapace. Hecate poured power into the hammer, and as it sizzled with heat and crackled with raw, uncontained energy, the Archon shoved it into the beast's back, melting flesh and breaking bone. The ultralisk roared in pain and collapsed from the shock. With only the pommel of the hammer was still outside its body, Hecate put its hand on it, and used the hammer as a conduit for the raw void energy it channeled into the creature. With a relatively high-pitched whimper the ultralisk suffered for a moment, then died as its liquefied interior poured out of its mouth and eye sockets.

A slight tremor in the earth reminded everyone that they are deep within Zerg territory who just went completely mad, and while there were still a few dozen zerglings and hydralisks still alive in the cavern that could be cleaned up for a nice finish, time was pressing and they really needed to be in orbit, preferably right now.

"Rally to me!" Nabiros shouted over the noise. "We are leaving!"

Although each of them had their own combat training and experience, they still had common themes, like "commanding officer", "regrouping", and "getting the fuck out without dying". The crew of the Explorer assumed the one formation they knew by heart: Nabiros and Tekka in front, Konrad and Valerie in the middle (each hugging a scarab host), and Hecate in the back. They finished off the last Zerg still interested in them, then ran back into the tunnel they came from.

" **Quick way or the safe way?** " Hecate asked, sounding a little winded.

"Quick way, there is no safe way." Valerie was panting.

"Not when Zerg go apeshit." Konrad was just warmed up. He wasn't jumping around every ten seconds to avoid turning into a pincushion.

"Correct, if crude." Tekka sounded like someone after a refreshing jog.

"Quick it is, then." Nabiros nodded.

" **We will lead the way.** " Hecate's hammer flickered for a moment. " **Tekka, Nabiros, you take the rear guard. Let's hurry, our ship may be in danger.** "

The crew was still fresh, all things considered, but they all considered the Explorer their home, at least practically if nothing else. Add to that the lack of other means of getting off-world on a planet infested with Feral Zerg, and suddenly you have all the motivation in the world to get there. It was the same with Nabiros and his crew, especially now that they didn't have to move carefully under Hecate's shroud. They didn't rush it, they jogged at a hurried pace, staying aware and staying together. Sometimes a few zerglings caught up with them from behind but Nabiros quickly vaporised them. The front end of their formation was busier: dozens of zerglings and hydralisks still tried to heed their master's call for help; however, Hecate was not in the mood to play, and marched forward with hammer raised, tunneling through rock and Zerg alike.

With the shortcuts and the speed increase, the return trip was much shorter than the one down. The surface entrance was blockaded by a hundred or so Feral Zerg, most likely as part of the dead thing's last commands. Nabiros cheerfully let his scarab hosts loose, who carried 'particularly high explosive' scarabs. In his enthusiasm, he skipped the math that would normally be necessary in such circumstances, which lead to some unforseen consequence. The two scarab hosts dug themselves to the surface vertically to avoid the blockade. Upon reaching the surface, they released their entire load of scarabs into the air, who then rained down upon the Feral Zerg like an artillery barrage, obliterating them and some of the surface as well.

After spending a few minutes to dig themselves out to the surface, the crew of the Explorer continued their way to their ship, picking up the scarab hosts on the way. Fortunately, the ship was unscathed, though the minefield Nabiros layed down seemed rather busy, considering a dozens of shredded Zerg corpses around it.

All but Nabiros and Tekka collapsed on the floor of the cargo bay, completely exhausted. Valerie and Konrad were out of shape and it was quite the distance, uphill in fact. Hecate felt drained as well, partially because it was actually tired, partially because such a 'medium-level' exertion was still taxing for it, and the Archon's pride didn't take it well.

Tekka went up to her room to freshen up: she was very much in practice, and it was good to stretch her legs again. She felt pleasantly tired, and thoroughly enjoyed the peace and quiet of her room after the pandemoneum of the caverns and tunnels.

Nabiros cleaned himself and changed into his phase-smith gear. As he sat into the pilot's chair, he notices that there was a transmission request half an hour ago from the Spear of Adun. Nabiros cursed quietly; he didn't want to make Hierarch Artanis and Emperor Valerian wait. He quickly composed and sent a short message asking for a little more time until he can get back on Stukov's Leviathan. Fortunately, the Admiral supported their plan to scout the nest ahead of time, so at least he is fine on that end. As much as he respected Hierarch Artanis and Emperor Valerian, he couldn't care much about their complaints in this regard. Not when that abomination's horrid form still burned in his mind. What was it and how it got there? These were much more pressing concerns than protocol.


	24. Chapter 22

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.08

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard Stukov's Leviathan  
 **Time:** 3 and a half hours after the holo-conference

"We await your explanation, phase-smith." Hierarch Artanis was angry beneath a thin layer of politeness. Nabiros wouldn't have been surprised if the Hierarch's holographic projection suddenly walked off the projector and beat him senseless.

"They have just returned from their trip down to Tarsonis." Stukov said in his defense. "They took a little longer than expected. I'm as curious as you are, Hierarch."

"It was my idea." Nabiros cut in before either could accuse Stukov for sending them to Tarsonis. "My crew and I decided that while we wait for your return, we could make ourselves useful and scout ahead." he put one of his tiny triangular holographic projectors on the floor. "And this happened."

The projector first replayed Hecate's realisation that their target isn't a hybrid after all, and their conversation about it. Then it switched to them jogging down a creepless tunnel to the wide cavern entrance where the thing was. Stukov, Valerian, and Artanis were a mix of surprised, disgusted, and interested. They listened to the team planning out their attack, then watched them as they layed waste to the cavern's inhabitants. Since they were watching from Nabiros' perspective, even without the HUD they could see the tiny scarabs burrowing themselves before Nabiros and Konrad. They were never called into action, however, as the half the view was filled with Zerg getting blown to pieces or incinerated. Nabiros was mighty pleased that his audience seemed impressed. The screen shifted into a series of screens, all showing different parts of the battlefield, and one dedicated to each crewmember - a glimpse into how Nabiros kept track of everything. It then focused on Tekka, who dropped her cloak and turned into a tunneling blender on the top of the thing. The projector turned off after she jumped off of it to deal with a few hydralisks nearby. Nabiros hoped that the lack of footage of Hecate would go unnoticed. He didn't want to get the Archon in trouble, what it got itself into on its own was more than enough already.

"Hah! You did our job for us!" Stukov laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "Though I wish Abathur could take a look at that thing."

"Agreed." Valerian seemed very interested. "We must find out what that creature was and how it came to be. I recommend we proceed without delay before the Zerg damage it further or it decomposes."

"Very well." Artanis agreed. "The Spear of Adun will enter orbit above Tarsonis, take control of the surface area above the nest, and send down a team to secure the corpse. We will bring it to the surface and put it in a stasis field until your... expert can examine it."

"Thank you, Hierarch." Stukov said thankfully. "I'm sure Abathur will appriciate the effort. I will send a Leviathan to pick him up. In the meantime, the Swarm will establish a hive cluster nearby to solidify our control of the area."

"The Dominion will fortify the landing zone." Valerian would not be left out, not when Tarsonis and more are at stake.

"The Daelaam will ensure that the tunnels are safe for as long as we need them, and safely collapse them afterwards." Artanis turned to Nabiros. "Nabiros, send the schematics of your new armament to Karax. He will relay it to the Purifiers. It will prove useful in the tunnels."

"As you command, Hierarch." Nabiros bowed his head slightly.

"And congratulations on a job well done, Nabiros." Valerian smiled. "The crew of the Explorer never ceases to amaze." there was a sudden glint of mischief in his eyes that made Nabiros feel uneasy. "Hierarch, are their orders still standing? That they should help the Dominion as best they can?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Artanis was unsure what Valerian was getting at.

Valerian turned to the Purifier. "I would like to ask you to go to Char with the Leviathan the Admiral is sending for his expert, and ensure that Broodmother Zagara joins us here on Tarsonis. You might not meet her again, so make the most of it."

"I could ask her to come, no need to send them." Stukov was confused.

"I'm well aware, Admiral." Valerian's devious smile was unsettling to see. "However, I want this team, with such extraordinary creativity, resourcefulness, and initiative, to create and seize opportunities more responsible minds would never find."

Artanis thought for a moment, then nodded. "That does seems to be their area of expertise." he gave a look to Nabiros that reminded him that Artanis is expecting nothing less than excellence and complete adherence to the Daelaam code of honour. "I will contact Alarak and find out if he wants to join as well. I can only imagine how impatient the Tal'darim are to be let loose again, and the Feral Zerg would make for an excellent diversion."

"I don't think the Tal'darim are capable of peace." Valerian seemed a little sad about it.

Artanis chuckled mysteriously. "We will see." he turned to Stukov. "Once we have ascertained the origins and identity of the creature found by the Explorer's crew, we can discuss it and the joined reclamation effort of Tarsonis further."

"Agreed." Stukov cracked a smile. "I must say, it will be good to be on the other end of siege tank bombardment for a change."

"I'm glad the Feral Zerg don't have banelings and the other new strains the Swarm has concocted recently." Artanis blurted out in a surge of friendly honesty. "It will not be easy but it will be less stressful."

"This should be a good lesson on the joys of cooperation between our peoples." Valerian could only partially hide his happiness at the sight of Protoss and Zerg having a friendly conversation. "It was hard to pay attention to it when Amon was destroying the sector. However, it is time we attended our assigned tasks. Farewell, gentlemen."

"Indeed." Artanis looked noticably more friendly than during the first holo-conference. "We will meet again soon." the holographic images quickly faded away as the projector shut down.

Stukov turned to his hosts. "We will set course to Char at once. I must ask you to stay in your ship, for own safety."

"We will leave your... vessel the moment we arrive." Nabiros nodded in agreement.

"I hope we will meet again on less eventful day." Stukov said with a smile and left the room.

* * *

A minute later, the crew were waiting before the doors of the bridge, since they wouldn't have fit in, armoured as they were.

"Remind me why we are trying to be friends with the Zerg." Valerie grumbled.

"Because peace is cheaper than war." Nabiros said flatly. "Both in resources and lives."

"That's cold." Konrad remarked. "Even if I agree."

"It doesn't seem right." Valerie grumbled on.

"The only alternative is war, and I think everyone had enough of it for a while." Konrad tried to be diplomatic.

"That's my point." Valerie said angrily. "As much as I think Stukov is a great guy, the Swarm needs to go into the blender, or they we will end up in their stomach."

"Why?" Tekka asked.

"Because they are ravenous space predators with a history of genocide?" Valerie said in disbelief that she has to explain herself.

"By that logic, the Protoss would have to be eradicated as well." Tekka said nonchalantly. "They exterminated a number of civilisations in their time."

Konrad and Valerie stared at Tekka with slack jaws, then looked at Nabiros for confirmation.

"Yes, that happened." Nabiros was getting frustrated with this topic. "We could debate each genocide's justification, but ultimately, the people who took part in them are long dead, and the current generations have a vastly improved attitude in comparison, so there is no justice to be done. The Swarm had its fair share of genocides as well on the way to the Koprulu sector, probably, but those in charge now are not the ones who did them. You could argue that they have some responsibility for the things Kerrigan did, but then again, what's the point? Moral highgrounds like this are made out of corpses and rubble, so excuse me for not seeking any."

"But what's the guarantee that they won't start slaughtering everyone again?" Valerie was relentless.

"Fear and hatred only allow perspectives that support their existence." Tekka's disappointment was visible. "A mind ruled by them is like an asteroid drifting in space under the influence of powers far greater than themselves, without a will of its own."

"That's rich coming from a Tal'darim." Valerie quipped.

"If you ran out of arguments then at least have the decency to aim that stick at me." Tekka said mockingly. "That's the Terran way, isn't it? Pretend to be civil but at the first sign of disagreement you pull out your primitive guns and start killing each other? We should call that 'the Korhal Attitude', that sums up the mindset and the consequences neatly."

For Valerie, time stopped for a moment, as if her brain wanted to thoroughly examine the decision before her, in a rare spark of heightened self-awareness. On one hand, Tekka was being an absolute ass; on the other hand, she was right. She felt a reservoir of anger within her that she was never quite aware of, with pictures and scenes of Zerg destroying lives and worlds swimming around in it, leaking boiling blood as they passed, turning the waters into a hellscape of ghostly shapes clawing at the glass of the reservoir, roaring for a chance to break out. There was no way she could live with this, but she didn't want to inflict it upon anyone else either. What was to be done, then?

Time's grace was over.

"This will be the first and last time I will explain this to you, you cheeky Protoss bitch, so you better listen carefully!" Valerie was shouting at the top of her lungs. "I lost everything I've ever had and everyone I've ever loved in the Brood War, and personally watched them consume planet after planet with no care in the world! No care for the billions of lives they've ruined! All the while you were bitching and moaning about your shitty life in some shithole Tal'darim planet, never having anything worth losing, so don't you fucking lecture me about fear and hatred! I don't give a flying fuck about your opinion, or your cheesy powers, because I at least dared to have something to lose, lost it, and I'm still asking for more! That's bravery, you little shit, something that none of your terrazine-snorting people have ever discovered, because your eye sockets were full with Amon's thousand dicks! So do everyone a favour and shove your fucking attitude up your ass, and shut the fuck up when people are worried for others' loved ones, because you never had any, never will have any, and so will never lose any, so you have no fucking idea what the fuck is going on!"

Tekka was staring back at ther with wide-eyed shock. Nabiros still has no facial expressions to read. Konrad was looking back and forth between her and Tekka. Hecate was on her right and a little behind, so she couldn't see its expression. She could only guess that her face was red as a tomato.

Did that just happen?

A low hum intruded upon the silence, like the arrival of a presence from afar. Then it spoke with Stukov's voice who sounded worried and urgent. "Protoss assassins are attacking the primary hive cluster! And there's a carrier in a collision course with it!"

Nabiros immediately ducked into the bridge and his seat. Seeing that Tekka was just standing there, Hecate slid before the navigation console. Valerie and Konrad had no idea what they were supposed to do, so they just stood in confusion.

"Open the hangar bay door, Admiral." Nabiros said with professional calm. "We will deal with the carrier. We're fast and can reach it in time to at least divert it."

"Good luck!" Stukov wasn't even surprised, and the fleshy walls of the Leviathan opened up for them.

* * *

"Hecate, status!" Nabiros called out.

" **We have the most time available if we ram the ship ...** " Hecate highlighted a small area on the carrier, near its engines. " **... here. We can turn the ship's shields into a drill that, combined with our speed, should be enough to get us into or near the engine controls. You can slow the ship down there, while Tekka hunts down the crew and we get to the bridge to take control. We cannot allow the ship to crash, the carrier's power cores are all set to overload, the explosion would still cause catastrophic tectonic reactions. We must pull it back into orbit at all costs.** "

Nabiros wanted to say something along the lines of 'that isn't a tall order at all, not even remotely insane', but he knew that his crew could really use some inspiration right now. Except he had no idea how to do that.

"Sounds like a Thursday." Konrad said nonchalantly. "Valerie will stay and guard the ship, I will come with you."

"I just want a peaceful week." Valerie muttered to herself.

"No. The scarab hosts will guard the ship." Nabiros was resolute. "These Protoss are bound to be Tal'darim. They probably have stealth assassins. The three of us will go together."

"It's not like I'm not scared shitless already." Valerie kept muttering. "Shit, shit, shit... Come on Val, pull yourself together, you're gonna have to watch out for shimmering assholes on a giant Protoss ship set to blow and about to crash into a Zerg hive cluster. That's okay, at least you're not fighting a humongous squid-god in a low budget hell that still manages to freeze the shit in your ass, while staring at the enormous ass of a mass murderer-turned-sun goddess that's on fire."

Hecate's heads turned to her slowly. " **That is a ... unique way to deal with stress.** " it turned to Nabiros. " **Is she truthful in her recollection?** "

"Yes, that happened." Nabiros grunted as he focused on flying the ship and god knows what else.

" **We will... go to the shield generator to prepare.** " the Archon was still trying to deal with the mental images floating in its many minds.

A painfully slowly passing minute later the Explorer was nearing the hulking carrier, like a flea charging a bull. Its shields began to hum and flicker as they were disturbed by an unseen force, then slowly but surely started to whirl, shifting most of itself to the front of the ship, less like a drill and more like a spinning spear. The normal blue of the shield turned red, and lightning crackled on its surface. Just a few moments later, the Explorer slammed into the carrier's hull then pierced through it, flying a few dozen meters until, having lost all of its momentum, it landed on the floor of a large storage area full of crates. Vacuum immediately took possession of some of the crates, but the carrier's environmental systems swiftly shielded the hole in the hull. This had the unfortunate side effect of covering the Explorer in large, heavy crates, denting its hull in some places, and scaring everyone inside that maybe a story or two above them collapsed upon their ship.

"That went better than expected." Nabiros said to himself. "Excellently done, Hecate! We're in!" no response. "Hecate?" nothing. "Hecate, can you hear me?" nothing at all. "Oh no."

Nabiros disconnected himself from the interface, leapt out of his seat, and rushed out of the room. The ship's interior looked intact but only the emergency lights were on, a cold blue that was intended to calm, but Nabiros couldn't care less. She rushed past the main elevator's spacious chamber and straight forward, into the power core's reinforced room. Hecate was lying on the floor, the usual tendrils of energy connecting his body parts were barely visible. The Archon's hammer was simmering and fuming, its crystal head shattered to fine dust. Nabiros knelt down to Hecate, trying to tell if its alive or not. He had no psionic ability to speak of, so he couldn't sense the Archon's mental presence, but his sensor suite did detect the energy patterns that form its body. They were badly damaged and the power that used to shine within it was almost entirely gone, as if the Archon was only held together by sheer tenacity and force of will, rather than whatever natural laws applied to such a barely mortal being.

Turning his attention to what he can do something about, Nabiros took a quick glance at the consoles and the readouts. The shield generator and its conduits were reduced to ash. The power core was a smoking ruin, though fortunately the emergency generator was unharmed and kept essential systems online. The ship's "C"-shaped front was ruined and turned into a rough "I". Nabiros was suddenly deeply thankful for the mercy of whatever gods responsible, because the bridge would have been the next to be crushed by the uncommon boarding manoeuver. Lifesign readings showed 3 people in the cargo bay.

"Tekka, how are you three down there?" Nabiros said through comms as he set course for the cargo bay.

"We are fine." Tekka's voice sounded a little grumpy. "The impact wasn't pleasant but none of us suffered noteworthy injuries."

Nabiros came down on the elevator's disk and stepped off of it. The two scarab hosts in the room hummed to life and floated to the two sides of the ramp. "Good. Hecate is unconscious. Tekka, you will be going alone. You must secure the bridge. Our ship is too damaged to fly, so we must take control of this one if we want to survive. Once the bridge is secure, I can initiate an emergency warp from the engineering deck, and stop us from crashing into the planet. Valerie and Konrad will guard me while I work." Nabiros ordered the ramp to open, which it did with great effort and creaking. However, it could just barely force an opening that was big enough for the Explorer's crew to crawl or slide through. "We have only a few minutes. Let's go."

Nabiros slid down the ramp and crashed into the crates and debris that were on the other end, creating a small but safe landing zone for the others, who followed swiftly. The team found itself in a forest of crates and debris, which was bound to waste their time. Without communicating his intent, Nabiros grabbed each of them and threw them over the pile of rubble like they were large pebbles. After a moment of disorientation and swearing, they saw the intended entrance of the storage area. Tekka dashed through it immediately, while Valerie and Konrad waited for Nabiros. The Purifier showed up seconds later, as he literally cut a path for himself using his incendiary beams, and rushed through the doors without stopping, with Valerie on his left and Konrad on his right.

Protoss interior design had high standards, even on warships, but Valerie and Konrad could only spare a fraction of their attention on the practical but still beautiful halls and corridors of the ship. Roughly a minute later they took a turn at a corner, and found themselves facing four Tal'darim zealots, who were guarding what looked like the entrance to the engineering deck even to the untrained eye. The Tal'darim just barely had enough time to turn to their attackers, as one of them vanished in a flash after a headshot from Valerie, and the other three were thrown back by a hail of grenades from Konrad. Nabiros followed up with his incendiary beams, cutting through the shields of one and incinerating him. Konrad blasted away the third and Valerie shot the fourth in the head. With only a small loss in momentum, the team rushed forward and through the door.

"This was just one entrance." Nabiros warned them as they ran. "The guards of the other ones will be on us in moments."

As if on cue, they bumbed into another set of four zealots, who just came out of a side entrance to the corridor they were running through. The Tal'darim charged at them with great speed. Nabiros swiftly erected a veritable curtain with his incendiary beams, putting pressure on their shields but not much else. A wide hole suddenly opened in the chest on the left zealot who vanished a moment later, while a pair of grenades exploded before the three remaining ones, halting their advance but not throwing them off balance. Nabiros crouched just in time to dodge several psi blade stabs while the left warrior leapt towards Valerie, and with mechanical precision and speed grabbed the armoured feet of the middle and right zealot. He swung them like two clubs at the one who dared to ignore him, sending him flying through the corridor. Konrad quickly stepped back, allowing him to continue the move and slam the two zealots into the wall, their skulls crushed to pieces for a moment, then they vanished. A hum and a whistle could be heard and the fourth was dead as well.

Konrad laughed and slapped Nabiros in the back, and they continued running. Seconds later, they entered an immense hall with enormous Protoss tech, which they guessed were the main engines of the ship and maybe the warp drive. The painfully loud humming and odd noises suggested that whatever they were, these machines were in terrible danger. Valerie immediately spotted a few amazing sniper nests that could not be reached by foot. She hoped Nabiros would be working somewhere nearby, and that something won't blow up beneath her. Burn wounds on the ass were hideous and inferally painful.

Nabiros rushed to a rather large console that had dozens of blinking red lights, and even though the Terrans couldn't understand a thing from the readouts, it was obvious that something was very, very close to blowing up.

"I will be working here." Nabiros was pressing buttons and switching screens with dizzying speed. "Don't bother with obstructions, they can jump over anything we could come up with here. Valerie, make sure you pick only the highest spots. They can jump very high _and_ run on walls."

"That's what I get for feeling safe for a moment." Valerie grumbled and rushed to reach a spot roughly 14 meters above the floor.

"Magnetic boots and momentum are a bitch." Konrad nodded in a mix of discomfort and respect.

"Tekka, we reached the engineering deck." Nabiros must have done something, the pandemoneum in the hall lessened somewhat, though the various screens were still mostly red and blinking in disciplined mechanical panic. "What's your status?"

"Busy." four seconds of silence. "Almost at the bridge. There's a lot of them. How much time do I have?"

"Less than two minutes." Nabiros replied. "I'm buying you seconds as fast as I can, but there's only so much I can do with limited access and some brute smashing his face in the consoles up there."

"On it."

Angry shouts from across the hall notified the arrival of another team. Or rather, two, since eight zealots were running towards Nabiros and Konrad. The combat engineer sent a pair of incendiary grenades their way that detonated above them. Flames poured down their sizzling shields that were weakened but still holding. Seeing that their foe has explosive weaponry, the zealots spread out. In the noise even the Protoss couldn't hear the sound that meant the death of one of their comrades, forcing the group to halt and find the source. A pair of grenades slammed into the warrior closest to Valerie's position, and another zealot vanished after a headshot. One of the Tal'darim found Valerie's spot and rushed towards her, followed by his closest comrade. The other three, seeing that the pesky Terran was being dealt with, charged Konrad, who greeted the first with a pair of grenades to the face, sending his shredded form flying back. It was quite a sight as the Tal'darim vanished in a flash of light in his armour that flied on and crashed into the wall.

The two remaining zealots leapt on Konrad, who was a few meters away from Nabiros. He tried to dodge but he still got a nasty cut on his leg and a pair of fortunately shallow stabs on his side. Laughing like a madman, he jumped up and back as hard as he could and shot a pair of incendiary grenades before and beneath his legs. The explosion propelled him further than his own jump would have, sending him to the far side of the row of consoles Nabiros was working on like nothing was happening around him. His legs looked very bad and he could barely stand on them, but the two zealots were both on fire, their shields depleted. Infuriated by the humiliation and maddened by the pain, the Tal'darim jumped over the consoles, ignoring Nabiros completely, who rewarded the attitude with one arm's worth of incendiary beams, cutting an arm off one and a leg off the other. Konrad shuffled back just in time for the two barely alive warriors to crash land on the floor before him. With a triumphant and joyous roar, Konrad crushed their skulls to a pulp and then to nothingness with his feet. After a moment's gloating, he looked up to find Valerie.

The sniper-reporter was sitting on a pipe as thick as a tank, unharmed. She waved to him, looking a little tired. He waved back, with a big smile on his face beneath the helmet.

"This gun is awesome, Konrad." Valerie laughed through comms. "It doesn't give a shit about shields."

"I'm not sure about the physics of it but I'm glad it works like that." Konrad was bathing in euphoria.

"On a side note, bridge secure." Tekka chimed in.

"Not a moment too soon." Nabiros grumbled. "Stay close to the consoles, I might need you to do a few things."

"How many did you find?" Tekka asked.

"16, altogether." Konrad boasted. "Like fish in a barrel."

"I found 15." Tekka ignored the expression she didn't understand. "Were they in groups of four?"

"Originally, yes." Konrad replied. "4-4-8 was how we met them."

"The engineering deck has four entrances." Tekka mused aloud. "The bridge has three, and I found 3 zealots patrolling the bridge itself."

"That sounds suspicious." Konrad became alert and looked around for signs of danger.

"None of them were leader material, but this was a suicide mission for them." Tekka continued. "There is no one he..."

"VALERIE!" Konrad shouted as loud as he could. "SHIMMER!"

Konrad saw it all in slow-motion. Valerie got tense by the unnecessarily loud noise ringing in her helmet, and the word 'shimmer' activated the inborn reflex of all veterans who faced stealth assassins: drop into a crouch, roll ahead, spin, spray. From thin air, above Valerie, a red psi blade appeared. She pulled herself into a ball. The blade descended with astonishing speed. As she tried to roll ahead, or rather, down in this case, the strike that was meant to cut her in half instead tore into right her shoulder, slicing through her armour with amused disinterest, biting into her flesh, then continuing the cut down her right side, ending at her right hip. Valerie cried out in pain. Nabiros spun around to see what is going on. Valerie started falling. Konrad cried out. Valerie's anti-grav boosters didn't ignite, she was probably in shock and unable to activate them. Konrad didn't even see Nabiros spin back, his hands a blur on the console. Tekka's scream in the comms. Valerie's body was falling, with no help in sight. A blue shimmer beneath her. The shimmer became a large, transparent, colourless box. Valerie's fall slowed down, and she slid into the box just as its top half finished manifesting behind her, her body coming to a full stop. The interior turned crystalline, with Valerie frozen inside it. A Protoss in black robes and a single red psi blade landed on top of the box. It looked pissed, denied.

"I will not let you wretches interfere!" the Tal'darim shouted, a man apparently. Konrad didn't care. He would be a smear on his fists soon enough.

The channeling spines on Nabiros' back and arms glowed bright, barely witheld energy crackling between them. "You are not even a challenge."

The assassin growled in anger, then vanished in a puff of smoke, only to reappear halfway towards him, then blinked again, appearing above and behind Nabiros, above the console he was working on a few moments ago. The Purifier spun around and caught the assassin's right forearm and throat, one in each hand. The man tried to struggle but there was no escape from the Purifier's grasp.

"So predictable." Nabiros crushed the man's gauntlet, along with his forearm, evoking a howl of pain. "I learned your tricks from a real Tal'darim assassin between fighting hybrid and void beasts. I'm not a good fighter, but I know your moves, and I'm quick in ways you cannot imagine." Nabiros sent a pulse of white-hot energy through his left arm, setting the assassin's clothes on fire. The Tal'darim was screaming.

Nabiros threw him behind him on the floor, and started working on the console again. The Tal'darim's own flesh was beginning to catch fire. Konrad walked over to him to make sure he didn't crawl away. A few seconds later, a stasis box, like the one Valerie was in, appeared around the assassin. He, and the fire, seemed to have been paused like a movie, stuck in distorted space within the transparent box.

"Is he conscious inside?" Konrad asked, obviously hoping for an affirmative answer.

"Can you be aware of time that is not passing?" Nabiros was in a grim mood as he returned to his original task.

"Guess not." Konrad shrugged and turned to walk to Valerie's stasis box to check on her, as much as circumstances allowed. "Good Lord. She has a cut from the shoulder to the hip, on the right side. Looks deep, it probably cut through bone, at least a few ribs, but let's hope it didn't disturb any internal organs much, that'd be really, really bad."

"Valerie!" Tekka shouted. Konrad looked up and saw her standing in one of the entrances. He waved at her.

"Over here, Tekka." he said. "Don't worry, Val's safe. Well, as safe as she could be."

"I knew you'd rush here." Nabiros grumbled. "Thankfully, I managed to get everything done remotely. We have maybe a minute until collision, so I recommend making the most of it. The emergency warp might not work."

"Aargh, shit." Konrad groaned. "Dying now would absolutely suck."

Tekka reached Valerie's box. "What... what is this?"

"This is ancient stasis technology with even older fabricator arrays." Nabiros replied. "It's embarrassingly ugly, I know."

Tekka fell to her knees in grief, and touched the box with one hand. "I'm so sorry, Valerie..."

"Let's hope this works." Nabiros said as he pressed a holographic button.

The air turned hot in seconds, the pandemoneum became several times worse than it was, and every molecule in their bodies complained loudly about space turning wobbly instead of being reliably unmoving. It was almost like their tissues decided to crawl the distance to their destination, an immensely creepy sensation. Nabiros kicked the console angrily, and suddenly they felt the familiar pull of a warp jump come and go. Space remained wobbly for a second but that, along with the other symptoms of a ship in dire need of repairs, vanished.

"Did it work?" Konrad asked, looking around. "Because if this is the afterlife I'm really disappointed."

Nabiros swapped around a few screens. "We are on the other side of Char." Tekka and Konrad sighed in relief. "I will try to contact the Spear of Adun. I'm sick of this ship."


	25. Chapter 23

Note: You might want to keep Wikipedia open in another tab for this one.

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.09

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Bucephalus  
 **Time:** Morning

As he waited for the rest of the guests, Emperor Valerian Mengsk surveyed the room he was in. A rather historical one, as the years marched on. This was where he first met James Raynor, the legendary vigilantee. This was where he revealed his plans to become a worthy successor to his father, the late Arcturus Mengsk. This room was witness to many historical events, great and small. Valerian wondered if he should retire the Bucephalus as the flagship of the Dominion Fleet, and make it his own chariot between the stars, with himself as a Santa Claus of history.

The young man smiled to himself. Were he the son of another man, he would probably be very near to becoming that. He might even join Nabiros on his adventures, as they traveled across the length and breadth of the Koprulu sector, unearthing archeological and scientific wonders that would reshape the future of this war-torn corner of the galaxy.

And yet, he was born the son of Arcturus Mengsk, the most charismatic and ruthless dictator in recent history, who cast a shadow that reached far beyond his grave. It put the mantle of Emperor on his shoulders without any regard for what he wanted.

That was not entirely true. Valerian knew himself too well to fall for the fallacies of his ego. He was a soft, caring person, born into a world drowning in petty conflicts, which later escalated to genocidal wars the likes of which humanity has never experienced. Fortunately, he was also determined and ambitious, and although it was a brutal and uncompromising gauntlet, his years up until now have shaped him into a two-faced man: one side cold, calculating, and efficient; the other benevolent and dedicated to a better future. Lesser men would have died in that gauntlet, and even decent men would have buckled and took one or the other side as their master. Not him.

He was the son of Arcturus Mengsk, the man who pulled humanity out of the fire and fangs of the Protoss and the Zerg, and through that purgatory forged a unified, strong Terran Dominion. Excellence was not enough. His father, however selfish and xenophobic he was, became an icon, a symbol of iron will overcoming any difficulty. His son will not let such a symbol perish beneath the boot of the vengeful and the short-sighted. Not only because he himself had to become the next symbol of humanity, but because his people must remember, must see that there is great potential in them, that there is nothing that cannot be accomplished with discipline, unity, and clarity.

The man who entered the room was both similar and completely different. Hierarch Artanis, on one hand, also sought unity between the various cultures of his race, as well as between the species of the sector. On the other hand, he was like the warrior-kings of ancient Earth, proud and noble, but still a warrior in the end, who had a... distinct mindset on how problems should be solved.

To Valerian, Artanis was a terrifying combination of Genghis Khan and Tokugawa Ieyasu, but without the bad press, which made it all the more impressive and worrying. If one would care to look past his nobility and his pursuit of a better future, Artanis united his people with an iron fist, and eradicated his opposition in the most absolute way possible. He did not unite the various Protoss factions because they wanted to, but because he needed them to. Protoss internal affairs were mostly unknown to outsiders, but what little information he had suggested that there was no sign of the factions trying to split up, now that the mutual threat that Amon had presented was gone. The Hierarch ran a tight ship.

He wondered if Artanis used some form of psionic mind control, but after having met him personally, he realised that the Hierarch was beyond the concept of "self-confident". He radiated facts, and each time he spoke with other Protoss, it seemed he was explaining something obvious, and everyone else just needed a friendly reminder. He meant no threat and so the others perceived none, keeping the mood positive despite his absolute dominance of the discussion. Valerian wondered if Artanis was aware of the effect he was having on his people, but if he was, he gave no sign of it. Other Protoss talked to him like he was the ultimate fountainhead of power and authority, whose orders they obeyed not because of servitude or coercion, but because they knew it was the best course of action, be the task great or small.

Artanis' powerful presence was a refreshing challenge after his father's aura that distorted reality to the point that whatever he said made sense. Valerian  
resolved to be the equal of Artanis, to be the Augustus and Bismarck to his Temudjin and Ieyasu. Either that, or the Terran Dominion would never become the equal of the Daelaam. Valerian felt offended by the mere notion. Humanity wasn't excellent, considering the gap between its aspirations and its average day, but by the skin of its teeth it could crawl forward, beaten and broken, but always rebuilt, always wiser than before.

The duo that entered the room after Artanis were the main source of Valerian's worries. Alexei Stukov was a formidable man when he was a mere mortal, but the infestation that should have been his second death became his ascension, into a being he did not understand completely. From what little he knew about his character before his death, Stukov used to be a lot more stiff when not with friends, and a bit of an authoritarian. Now he walked with the casual stride of those who have seen too much to care about shows of strength, and with a relaxed self-confidence that made him look friendly for a nightmarish infested. Valerian knew from experience that the source of self-confidence was conviction, trust in your abilities to pull through under the given circumstances, or a deep understanding of the unfolding events that gives you enough control over it to succeed. What he didn't know were the details of Stukov's conviction, that allowed him to act so casually with people who would sleep much easier if he and his new people would not exist. That's no small feat.

Speaking of things not small, Valerian never met Zagara in person. She stood just a little shorter than Artanis but she still had an imposing presence. Valerian felt a little embarrassed for a moment that he was the shortest among them, but then he reminded himself that being shorter than a Protoss, a Broodmother, and an infested Terran is perfectly fine. What was less amusing was his lack of understanding of Zagara's character. She was a Zerg, which meant nothing good; a Broomother, which made everything a thousand times worse; and Kerrigan's chosen successor of the Swarm, which is as good as a tenure at terror: a recognition of ability, true, but said ability revolves around genocide and horrible things in general. A lack of enthusiasm toward someone with such pedigree at a diplomatic meeting was to be expected. Valerian really wanted to know what Zagara wanted, what were her goals, and how did the Swarm work under her leadership. It was time to find out.

"Welcome." Valerian greeted his guests. "I'm glad you could come, Queen Zagara."

"There is no need for formality." Stukov cut in with a little smile. "The Zerg have no use for it."

"That is true." Zagara didn't seem to care one way or the other. "But do not call me Queen. There is only one Queen, and while she trusted the Swarm to me, it is still hers to lead whenever she chooses to." Artanis and Valerian looked at her in shock.

"Kerrigan yet lives?" Artanis asked in disbelief.

"We would have felt her death." Zagara sounded like she was explaining the obvious. "We do not know where she is or what she is doing, but we know she is alive."

"That certainly... complicates things." Valerian's mind was abuzz trying to deal with this new piece of information.

"We do not expect Kerrigan to show up anytime soon." Stukov said helpfully. "She only recently ascended to Xel'naga, she's probably busy getting used to it. Besides, if I were her, I'd take a brake of this sector for a while. A long, long while."

"That's reassuring, if still somewhat uncomfortable." Valerian deeply hoped that Kerrigan would not visit in his lifetime. The Swarm was already a major problem, they didn't need a patron goddess supporting them. Although...

"What news of the Explorers?" Stukov switched topics to save everyone from further awkwardness. When he saw that the others didn't catch his meaning, he corrected himself. "Nabiros and his crew?"

Valerian's expression turned worried a little. "One of them was severely injured, she is on a medical ship. The rest of the team is there as well, waiting for the results of the surgery."

"You mean Valerie, right?" Stukov seemed genuinely concerned. "How bad is it?"

"A psi blade wound from the right shoulder down to the hip." Valerian made a mental note to ask Konrad about their relationship with Stukov. "It cut through the bones but fortunately no internal organs were damaged. Nabiros put her in a stasis cell when she got injured. The Spear of Adun boarded the carrier, put Valerie in a mobile stasis pod, then brought her and the others to the medical ship that arrived just minutes before to build a field hospital for our soldiers."

"Truly, fate was with them." Artanis was proud of them. "It might be typical of them to succeed in accomplishing the impossible but it never ceases to amaze me."

"Yes, that was quite the stunt they pulled." Stukov nodded in appriciation. "We would like to thank them personally for their help. Without them that carrier would have slammed into Char and blew half of it to oblivion. We owe them that much."

"I still don't understand why they did it." Zagara seemed curious. "Let us know when we can talk to them."

"As you wish." Valerian saw this as his cue. "It seems that we are all interested in understanding one another."

"The Zerg have little experience with generosity." Stukov chuckled.

"You seem to have a point, Valerian." Artanis' voice was friendly, but Valerian took it as a warning to say his mind in the presence of powerful psykers.

"I want peace in this sector." Valerian said flatly. "To that end, we must be open with each other about our goals. We have a history, a history filled with bloodshed and war, but if we want to see our people prosper, we must put that behind us, and learn to live with each other as neighbours at the very least. Can we agree on that much?"

"Yes." Artanis didn't hesitate for a second.

"The Swarm has never known peace." Zagara looked like someone who knows they are making the right decision but it's still very hard for them. "We will see what it has to offer us."

"I'm glad to hear that." Valerian felt incredibly relieved but tried to show as little of it as he could. "But as we are now, we are just ignoring each other and focusing on our own affairs. If we want this peace to last, we have to be open to each other, willing to share our goals, maybe even our troubles. For example, Artanis was kind enough to send Nabiros and his crew to me, while he is preparing to help my people rebuild. I have a few ideas how to return the favour, but first I wanted to see if the Swarm could join in as well."

"You have my attention." Zagara seemed interested but not committed.

"Let's start with the obvious ones." Valerian was getting excited. He hoped he wasn't showing too much of it. "We cannot yet say for certain that the sector is rid of Amon's hybrid and other minions. If our militaries could focus on that instead of watching their backs for an invasion, we could secure the sector faster and more thoroughly." three quick nods meant that he could continue. "We should also remember the UED. We have no information on the size and state of their empire. For all we know, they have sent the majority of their army during the Brood War. For all we know, they have a new fleet twice as big ready to invade."

"For all we know, they are terrified of us." Zagara said with glee.

"That would be best." Valerian nodded in agreement. "But whatever else we choose to do, we must agree that should the UED invade the sector again we will stand united against them." three quick nods again, thankfully. "I'm glad we agree."

"It would be foolish to do otherwise." Zagara's blunt honesty was pure joy for Valerian after Dominion politics. "I hope they will come. I want to see their fleets retreat in vain, like our Queen. I know it happened but I have not experienced it for myself."

Valerian noticed that Artanis turned a little grim. Kerrigan routed not only the UED's remnant fleet, but Arcturus' ragtag army and Artanis' vengeful expedition force as well. Just as he wanted to continue his cooperative to-do list, Artanis cut in.

"I would rather we sorted out our current objectives first." the Hierarch said. "Trust is earned, not agreed upon."

"Well said." Valerian cut his losses and rolled with it. "Allow me to share what intelligence our scouts have gathered on the area around the landing zone..."

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.09

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the medical ship "Pit Stop"  
 **Time:** Morning

Nabiros was aware that he probably looked like a statue to the outside observer. He had been standing there for almost 2 hours now, before the emergency room the Terrans brought Valerie to. It was an easy way to reassure the crew that he was just waiting for the surgery's results. A little unauthorised research on a nearby terminal revealed that this ship was part of a larger mercenary group until recently. The leader of the group sold them to the Dominion military and then disappeared with the money, probably to retire to a colony where nobody knew him by reputation or cared much. 'Going legit', as a number of illegally accessed journals put it, was a welcome change after the uncertainty of mercenary life, especially among the veterans who were developing a desire to settle down and raise a family. Until then, the mercenaries manned their original ships and life went on with little change. Some even wore uniform.

The ship itself was a flying brick. It was a medium transport originally, ferrying goods between planets for profit, until the mercs 'acquired' it and, in a rare moment of inspiration, turned it into a medical ship (they thought the new name was funny but Nabiros couldn't find out why). To them, that meant putting ridiculous amounts of armour plating on it, creating a small dock for swift and agile troop transports that brought the injured to the ship, a fat power core and warp drive to allow initiating warp jump faster, and filling the rest of the empty space with the best medical tech they could get their hands on. While the rest of the ship looked old and held together by the crew's stubbornness and dedication, the medical wing was pristine, though the doctors and nurses still looked like peacocks in their colourful and decorated clothes and bodies. Nabiros was certain that he was missing key information to understand these people, but they still looked like Terrans trying to out-colour rainbows.

He offered to help with the surgery, citing his knowledge of most everything involved (as far as he was aware), but the surgeon declined, saying 'I'm not gonna tell you how to do orbital bombardments, you're not gonna tell me how to patch up people', then she marched off, revealing the back of her pink lab coat, which had an almost naked Terran woman in a probably enticing pose in black and white, circled by the words 'The Louder You Scream The Faster I'll Come" in black.

And these people were responsible for Valerie's fate.

Nabiros tried to divert his attention by thinking of the rest of his crew. While their ship was being repaired, they were offered temporary accomodations on the Spear of Adun. He told them to get combat ready as soon as possible, then left them to take Valerie's stasis pod to the Terran medical ship. Konrad is probably in a forge, trying to negotiate repairs for his suit's legs. Hecate is still unconscious, otherwise it would have been waiting for Valerie with Nabiros. Tekka... he hoped she was helping Hecate recover, but Valerie's injury hit her hard. Frankly, Nabiros had no idea why she cared so much. Some concern out of politeness or camaraderie would have been his estimate of her reaction. Something must have happened between them that he wasn't aware of. As much as she tried to appear beyond the reach of harm, Tekka still had plenty of vulnerable spots - which Valerie hit with suspsicous precision. Something to talk about when she is healed. If she is healed.

The door opened with a hiss. It was the surgeon in the pink lab coat.

"Hey, big guy!" she called out to him, the door closing behind her.

"What news do you bring?" Nabiros asked as he walked to her.

"Your friend is badly hurt but she'll live." the surgeon started rolling her shoulders, probably as a form of exercise. "She's gonna be out cold for a few days, and once we're sure everything is set to heal on its own she can leave. But no action for at least five months, and even then she'll be out of shape."

"It will take half a year for her to recover?" Nabiros wasn't aware that Terran regeneration and medicine was so ineffective.

"If you Protoss have a fast forward button then give it a try, by all means." the woman shrugged. "I hear the Zerg are pretty good at regeneration, as long as you can ignore the infestation part."

"... I see." Nabiros quietly concluded that this cannot stand. "Thank you for your work. I will leave her to your care."

"Just another day at the office." the woman grinned with apparent exhaustion.

Nabiros bowed his head slightly, then left to return to the Spear of Adun. He wanted to make sure no undue modifications were made to his ship, not after all the time he invested into adjusting it to his own needs or that of his crew. He didn't want to have to explain that centuries of Protoss technological advancement have been put to use to create a low-maintenance, low-demand garbage disposal unit. If they found out that they were also used to handle the by-products of the Terrans' metabolism they would throw him into the Arkship's solar core. Nabiros grunted: these phase-smiths have never designed a zoological research ship before. They would have died in horror and disgust at the amount of fecal matter produced by hundreds of large specimens on a daily basis. Routine truly is the bane of mastery.


	26. Chapter 24

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.15

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Early afternoon

Valerie awoke to the sound of a group of old people moaning unintelligably and the clink of crystal hitting metal at regular intervals, but both seemed distant and somewhat muffled. To her surprise, she felt surrounded by some sort of warm liquid with the consistency of thick soup. Even more surprisingly, she only felt sore, which, considering her injury, should have been much, much worse. She sensed a few weird things but her head was dizzy. She wondered if she was high on painkillers or something, but this was something different, as if the chemicals in her system tried to keep her nerves calm and her mind at rest, probably so that she won't panic when she moves a bit and feels a tube in her anus.

For a moment, Valerie did panic but her adrenal glands seemed to have very little juice in them, or were suffering from their own version of an erectile dysfunction. Somewhere on the conscious level she was aware that her to-do list suddenly had a few very specific things on the top, but there was no stress, she could even experience that small part of her that thought it was funny without the usual emotional noise that would normally accompany such a realisation. But some part of her survival instinct managed to push through the hippies in her bloodstream and provoked her into action. She opened her eyes.

It took her a while to put the pieces together, but apparently she was floating in a transparent, bluish soup in a transparent, probably colourless tube, wearing a surprisingly comfortable white silk bikini whose bra had so thin cords holding it on her that she wondered if the two pieces of cloth on the front end were just put on her and the soup was kind enough not to remove them, but there was that nice, snug fit that was so rare in non-sports bras, and this looked good enough to wear for a beach. Speaking of public spaces, beyond her comfy jar she saw a large room full of jars like hers, except for the one to her right, which had a very different, and much bigger jar. Hecate was walking to it slowly, using her hammer as a crutch, her cannon arm hanging limply on her other side. It was probably the source of the noise that woke her. As if noticing her noticing it, the Archon turned around to face her.

" **Ah, Valerie, you're awake.** " Hecate said, her voice missing the energy and subtle undertones that she just noticed she was so used to. It looked not only tired but sleepy, of all things. " **How are you feeling?** "

Valerie tried to speak but realised that there was a tube in her mouth that went down her throat. She was expecting a gag reflex at that realisation but that, along with her adrenal glands, seemed to be turned off. There were also tubes in her nose which she just realised she was breathing through all along. There was also another thin tube in her urethra. Well, at least she wasn't pissing and shitting into the juice she was swimming in.

" **Oh, we forgot you can't speak like that.** " Hecate shuffled closer to her jar. " **Think of what you would like to say to us, as if you were trying to put it on the top of your thoughts, and we will hear you clear enough that we can talk. We are weak, as shameful as it is, but we can manage this much.** "

*Where am I?* she tried saying telepathically, as best as one could without having a shred of psionic ability.

" **On the Spear of Adun, in the recovery room. Well, one of them. This ship is ridiculously big.** "

*The fuck is this jar? And all these cables?*

" **We Protoss use these rejuvenation pods to heal wounds. It's much faster than waiting for the body to do all the work on its own. As to the cables, well, let's see... You know, we don't really know, we just heard that a few zoologists had to be called in to help rig one pod for you, so that you won't have to waste half a year of your life regenerating. They had to figure out how to feed you and how to keep your pod clean. So they asked a few Terran healers how your people do it, and came up with this. We are just guessing, but the one in your nose is for air, the one in the mouth is for sustenance, and the bottom two are most likely for the... uhm... waste your body produces. The Terran healers also recommended something for you to wear and Nabiros came up with the one you're wearing now.** "

Valerie imagined Nabiros reading up on bikinis and giggled to herself, but then also imagined him using a holographic image of her to draw the design of the bikini on, and got really embarrassed. Suddenly the snug fit had a little creepy vibe to it. With the hippies still messing up the biological end of her emotional flow, she could only casually tried to switch topics. *And how are you? Why do you have a crutch? You don't even have legs, you don't walk, you float.*

" **Like we said, we are not doing well.** " Valerie belatedly realised that she touched on a sensitive topic, to say the least. " **We... strained ourselves in our boarding attempt. We might be creative but we don't have the skills necessary to follow up on our ideas. We have also vastly overestimated our power. Although being an Archon comes with a very significant boost and the twelve of us together seems to have further amplified that, it is by no means cumulative. We are not a single entity with an increased Archon power multiplier further multiplied by twelve, but twelve conjoined entities with an increased Archon power multiplier. Despite sharing this vessel, we are still a group and must work as a group. As part of our recovery, we take part in Templar combat practice and guided meditation sessions, partially to help our body recover, partially to help our dignity recover. We sense your thoughts and we appriciate your caring, but do not worry. We wanted this. We wanted to face our limits, sooner rather than later. We might not enjoy it but we see its use. However...** " Hecate slowly turned away and shuffled towards its own pod. " **We have grown very tired. We need to rest. We will talk later. You might even get out of here sooner than we will.** "

Hecate's pod was twice the size of hers, and hers had plenty of space in it. When it was open, the jar bit was pulled up by bullshit Protoss tech, and there was a platform half a meter above the floor with a few small holes in it. When Hecate pulled itself onto the platform, the jar carefully descended into its place. Valerie saw a familiar gas coming from the small holes, creating a slowly whirling mist in the jar. Hecate put the hammer down before it, head down, and floated a bit higher. Its body seemed to disperse, turning the red mist into a thick reddish-purplish cloud.

*Huh, so that's how you go to bed.* she thought. *Good night, Hecate.

After spending a few minutes to examine her surroundings, Valerie realised that there is very little to do in a regen-jar. Getting one for the Explorer seemed like a good idea, though she thought that maybe adding a console to the interior would be a nice touch, so the patient wouldn't be bored to tears. Really, Protoss bedside manners left much to be desired. Just when she thought she would test her telepathic abilities even if it pissed off every Protoss on the ship, Nabiros entered the recovery room.

"It is good to see you awake, Valerie." Nabiros walked to the jar. "Hecate told me you were awake." he pulled out a small, octagonal object the size of a coin, and upon closer inspection it did look like one. Valerie never saw Nabiros' pockets where he pulled these things out, she even wondered if there was some bullshit Protoss spacial distortion tech involved. He placed the coin into a socket within what looked like her jar's terminal. He fiddled around for a few moments and suddenly a holographic Terran keyboard and screen appeared before her. "If you just type something in and press Enter, then the text will appear in a holographic window above this terminal, so you can communicate. If you type /commands then it will give you a list of commands that the terminal will execute for you. You can use them to call for me, Konrad, or Tekka." he said her name a little angrily. He walked in front of her jar, just barely half a meter away from her. "Tekka has been behaving strangely. She was avoiding all of us but that was futile on this ship and with me as her captain. She refuses to talk but I could see that her mind was preoccupied." he seemed to think about how to phrase the next part. "Is there something I should know?"

Valerie wasn't sure if Nabiros waiting patiently for her to type out her answer was a good or a bad sign. /It was my fault. I took it out on her. I didn't mean to talk to her like that but seeing the Zerg up close and going to talk to them of all things just... reminded me of all the people I've lost to the Zerg, all the destruction they have wrought. I felt so angry and Tekka was being an absolute ass while also being right and... you've seen the rest./

Nabiros read her answer for much longer than she thought it was necessary for him. After a painfully long silence, he looked back up at her. "Your personal problems seem to stem from a set of miscommunications and the consequent misunderstandings." Nabiros' voice was stern and uncompromising. "Both of you are adults and I expect you to resolve it as such. You should be out of there by tomorrow. You have until then to think about how you want to go about it because the first thing you will do after the healers let you out is settling this argument with Tekka. I will not tolerate tension on my ship coming from unresolved personal issues." For a moment it seemed like he had something else to say but then he turned around and left the room.

Valerie thought that this was ridiculous. Nabiros was blowing it way out of proportion. It was just an argument, a little honest shouting, nothing big. People don't always get along, especially when their perspectives and beliefs conflict. It's not like she didn't get her punishment from her karma right away...

"Nabiros can be like that." Tekka said as she appeared from nowhere before her. Valerie nearly got a heart attack, and the hippies in her bloodstream seemed to be losing their numbers. Tekka looked so different, looking at her from equal height, it was hard to put it into words. It was as if a great chasm between them disappeared, as if they were on equal terms now. Tekka looked around, pretending to be checking if they were alone, but Valerie could see that she was nervous. The Tal'darim finally looked at her. "So, how's your back?" Tekka tried to sound casual.

Valerie felt herself arrive at a crossroads. She could either play it down and pretend there's nothing going on, that it was just the stress, or she could be truthful with the both of them. She felt tired, so very tired by this life. She wanted to retire, enjoy some peace and quiet after three world-shattering wars. But somewhere there was a voice in her that told her that the peace she seeks can be only forged, not found like some pot of gold in a rainbow. Her sense of truth also chided her for trying to get away easily. _I don't want regrets,_ she thought to herself. _I want truth._

She swam closer to the glass of her tube, looked Tekka in the eye, smiled, then put her right hand on the glass. She watched as the thinly veiled turmoil within Tekka flowed over her pretense of strength, the wall in her eyes crubling down brick by brick, until there was nothing but raw pain and guilt. Valerie floated a little closer in the healing fluid, putting her left hand on the glass as well. She knew that pain, the fear of loss, rooted in having experienced it multiple times.

*I'm sorry I shouted with you.* she wanted to say. *You were right. I just couldn't deal with how I felt.*

Tekka stepped closer and put her gauntleted hands on the glass, as if trying to touch Valerie's on the other side. "No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have been so high and mighty."

*It's okay, you're taller.* Valerie blurted out in thought. She didn't like telepathy, she couldn't censor her thoughts.

Valerie sensed a single pulse of a laughter from Tekka, but the librarian quickly looked down at the floor. "Stop being so nice to me." her voice sounded like she was choking back tears. "I can't handle it."

*Oh, come on, get over it already.* Valerie almost laughed but that would have been a bad idea with a tube in her throat. Even so, she felt a strange warmth enveloping her chest and stomach. *Don't act like you can afford to waste your time on your personal drama. Look at me.* Tekka hesitated for a moment but then she slowly lifted her head, her face covered in tears, her red eyes like two fiery orbs of confused raw emotion. *We have to pull our shit together if we don't want Nabiros to throw us out the airlock for being drama queens. You with me so far?* Tekka nodded but had no idea where she was going with this. *So we're gonna agree right here, right now, that we both fucked up, and that we must do better the next time we're about to have a misunderstanding for any reason. Is that acceptable?* Tekka nodded again. *Good. If we have something to say to one another then we'll do so at the earliest possible opportunity, okay?*

Tekka's eyes suddenly burned bright, her previous turmoil becoming resolved, as molten steel becomes a spear tip. She slowly pulled her hands away from the glass, as if reluctant to brake contact, then typed a few commands in on the terminal. Some sort of cover slid down on her jar and internal lights lit up, shutting her into a gently glowing, light blue metallic cocoon. Valerie couldn't make sense of this and floated back into the middle. Then she felt an invisible force pushing her farther back into the tube, and when her back was nearly pressed to the glass, Tekka appeared inside in a whiff of ethereal smoke that couldn't care less about the fluid in the tube. In the small, enclosed space, Tekka suddenly looked really big. She flicked her wrists and her gauntlets slid off her hands and slowly drifted down to the bottom of the tank. Tekka floated closer to Valerie and gently pulled her into a hug, careful not to touch her scarred back.

"Please take care of yourself better next time." Tekka said softly. "I don't want to lose you."

Valerie couldn't help but think: *This would be so romantic if I didn't have so many tubes in me. Ah well. You gotta make do with what you have.* as she hugged Tekka back.

On the terminal on their now shared pod, a large holographic sign had the following warning sign: OPEN THIS POD AT YOUR OWN PERIL, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED


	27. Chapter 25

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.16

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Morning

Nabiros eyed Tekka and Valerie with suspicion, so for once he was glad he had no facial expressions. He gathered everyone together on their ship, the Explorer, which had been repaired and modified in equal measure, but that is for later. Right now, they were sitting in the conference room of the ship, as it were, which used to be the meditation chamber on the top deck. The holographic projectors that Nabiros installed haphazardly for their diplomatic mission have been expanded to a complex suite, and a large, oblong table was added along with 10 seats. Konrad added a bar immediately after but it had yet to be stocked. His entire crew was here. Konrad managed to arrange for repairs of his body and suit without causing the local phase-smiths to rip out the rest of their nerve cords. Hecate was still healing (whatever that meant for it, Dark Archon physiology was not a well-researched subject) but was transportable. Valerie just left her rejuvenation pods and should be in shape after a few days of training, but the thing that frustrated Nabiros was her and Tekka getting along flawlessly once again. He respected others' privacy but he really wanted to know just what was going on between the two of them. More specifically, what sequence of events caused their argument and what solved it so fast? Alas, the results were what truly mattered, so grudgingly, but he moved on.

"Although you have been unconscious for a week and a number of things happened, you didn't miss out on anything." Nabiros once again thanked the gods that his crew were not needed while they were in bad shape. "Abathur, the Swarm's bio-tech expert as I understand, confirmed what we all suspected deep down: the creature we found was a Cerebrate. It was created more out of need than ability, and although it is theorised that it could have grown into a proper Cerebrate in time, we still caught it in its infancy. Broodmother Zagara added that even if they did reach what could be considered adulthood, they would still be shadows of the ones that came with the Overmind, who had centuries, if not millennia of experience, as well as the Overmind to teach them. It is unknown if they would be able to reincarnate if not slain by Void energies, considering that Tekka did exactly that, but it is unlikely."

"It's not like we will let them get that far." Tekka chuckled.

"Agreed." Nabiros nodded. "The surviving Tal'darim agent was sent to Highlord Alarak upon his request, for interrogation and execution. Obviously, the Highlord is trying to downplay the significance of this event, but it is quite possible that he is facing internal struggles for one reason or another. Although the other three factions agree that they would rather not leave the Tal'darim to their own devices, they have very little insight on the matter, and more pressing concerns demand their attention."

"Yeah, if Cerebrates start popping up and we don't put them down we could be fighting a bigger war than we would be otherwise." Konrad sounded unusually determined. Nabiros didn't think the ex-mercenary would be so keen to get back into a war.

"It seems to me that at the very least Hierarch Artanis is of the same mind." Nabiros really liked that Artanis had much better priorities than the Conclave back then. Although it was a Terran concept, he would have relished the thought of the Judicators spinning around in their graves. "Driven purely by instinct, the Feral Zerg on Tarsonis are incapable of mounting an offensive necessary to push us off the planet but they still have to be taken seriously. With that in mind, more permanent bases have been set up in the general area of the original landing zone. Considering the scale of decisions that are being made, each faction's leadership is taking their time to assess the situation and forge their own strategy, both in the military and diplomatic sense."

"We should petition for a Zerg team member." Valerie had been in deep thought during Nabiros' briefing, and it seemed that one thought escaped from her mind. Everyone slowly turned to stare at her like she suddenly started burping colours.

Seeing that she was not responding to the unspoken questions, Konrad voiced all their feelings in the only way he knew. "What?"

"We need to find a Zerg crewmember." Valerie seemed more 'present' this time, though she was still only halfway from her thoughts. "It is all so obvious now."

Tekka poked her in the shoulder. "Then enlighten us."

The ex-journalist finally came back to them in mind and spirit. She seemed very enthusiastic. "It is obvious that the Swarm is pushing for peace to avoid getting ganged up on by everyone else. We talked about this before. Again obviously, the Terrans and the Protoss are very distrustful of them, to say the least, though the war against Amon at least gave them a chance. However, there is only so much they can do on their own, and I'm fairly sure that neither Valerian nor Artanis is in a position, or even the mood, to initiate anything that would help improve relations. The last time we trusted the Zerg, after all, was when Fenix and General Duke died, and let's not bring up the casualties of the Brood War."

"You're starting to ramble." Tekka poked her in the shoulder again. "Get back on track."

"Oh, right." Valerie shook her head. "We, however, have established a reputation for doing the impossible, and being just a couple of disposable people, if we fuck up they can just write it off as us being idiots. But imagine if you had a self-sufficient team of problem solvers with representatives from every faction, who are so goddamn cheeky and resourceful that they can get anything done that doesn't require an entire nation's effort. We could set an example that despite all our differences we can work together if we so choose, that we can put the past where it belongs and not shackle future generations with our residual thirst for vengeance." Valerie saw that his crewmates were not quite convinced. "Just line up the facts! Who were ultimately responsible for all the horror the Zerg wrought? Amon, who is dead, the Overmind, who is dead, and Kerrigan, who left the sector, and even if she came back, she's a Xel'naga, and unless we can pull one out of our ass, there is nothing in this universe that can challenge her, so let's write her off too. What about the Protoss? I don't know how it looked from the inside, but from the outside, the Conclave was just a bunch of hateful old jerks who hated everyone who got on their lawn, but they're dead, so we're good. It's pretty much common knowledge that the Confederacy was useless and corrupt, Arcturus Mengsk replaced it with his very much useful regime, but it was also corrupt but in much more terrifying ways. He's dead too, along with the vast majority of his supporters, and the rest are either in no position to rebel, or have enough sense to know that their time is over." Valerie drank from her glass of water. "So what we have is a clean slate. Every major decision maker who could be held accountable for the misery in this sector is either dead or as good as dead, and what's left are the victors of those wars, who need to decide if they should butcher the leftovers of the people who wronged their people, who, by the way, fought with them side by side agains extinction."

Silence settled on the room for a few moments as everyone considered her words. Hecate spoke up first. " **When you array the facts like that, peace does seem the better option. After all, one path leads to certain misery and possible extinction, while the other is a vast unknown with a real but unknown chance for healing and rebuilding.** "

"Yeah, you would have to cling to your hatred very hard to ignore this much sense." despite his words, Konrad seemed to be unhappy with what logic dictated. Then again, he lost much to invading aliens.

"It's still easier than trusting the people who reduced your civilization to refugees." Tekka snickered. "Still, it is the only choice with a worthwhile future."

All eyes were on Nabiros. After all, he was their captain, it was his call to make. He stared at Valerie for several painfully slow and quiet seconds. "I have no idea who they would even send." he said finally. "I am curious, I admit, but I see no proof that would support your claim that having a Zerg with us would have as large an impact on interfaction relations as you calculate." he raised a hand to stop her from giving a full-fledged lecture instead of a speech this time. "Remember whose ship you serve on, Valerie. As much as I like facts and proof, we operate on a higher level than that. I didn't help and then recruit Hecate because I had proof about what it is and what it will do, quite the contrary, in fact. I did what I believed in, and I offer you the same chance: do what you believe in, and if you succeed then they will be our new crewmember."

As Nabiros finished that sentence, he felt that something in the cosmos clicked, and something irreversible came into motion. He wondered how long it will take for it to come to fruition.

* * *

The Purifier captain stood before the ramp of his ship just over half an hour after Valerie's bright idea about recruiting a Zerg. Walking towards them in one of the vast hangar bays of the Spear of Adun were Admiral Stukov, a welcome sight, and Broodmother Zagara, who deeply unnerved Nabiros, especially because she wanted to talk with them, specifically. For what reason, Stukov wouldn't say, only that she just wanted to talk. Based on his experience, that wasn't reassuring at all.

"She's kinda cute." Konrad blurted out. "She's looking around like a tourist from the colonies visiting the core worlds."

" **Please, tell her that, we want to see her reaction.** " Hecate laughed.

"Hey, for all we know, she and Stukov might be going out." Valerie said to draw attention away from Konrad.

Konrad's face wrinkled up in disgust. "You made me think of infested dick."

"If his arm is like that then..." Valerie shrugged, grinning at Konrad's pain as his mind's eye was flooded with things he never wanted to imagine or see.

"If you've ever seen a swarm queen from behind then you'll know that he would really need some enhanced equipment to make it work." Tekka added, as if just genuinely discussing the subject. "I wonder if its prehensile."

Nabiros sighed inward. He really liked these people but sometimes he wondered what he got himself into. Still, it was good to see the Admiral again, and he tried to draw strength from that. He needed every ounce he could find for the next hour or so. To his horror, just a dozen paces away from the ramp Zagara turned to Stukov and said something, probably, and the man seemed to argue briefly but in the end gave in, and turned around for what seemed a casual stroll in the hangar bay.

"I wanted to talk to you alone." Zagara said by way of greeting when she reached them. "Stukov spoke for me enough for today."

"He means well." Valerie was half serious, half reprimanding, to Nabiros' shock.

"He serves until I master this 'diplomacy'." Zagara caught her meaning and decided to clarify the situation. She turned to Nabiros. "Show me your ship, Purifier. I want to see what saved me and my brood."

Nabiros obeyed with a little stress. Although she could fit, but only just, and he had no idea what she wanted with all this. Then again, he never spoke with a true Zerg before.

"What a tiny ship." Zagara remarked a few minutes later in the conference room. "How did you board the Carrier with this?"

" **We turned the ship's shields into a drill, then smashed into the Carrier.** " Hecate answered before Nabiros could. " **Much like how a Scourge would do it, except without the explosion.** "

"And then?" Zagara seemed genuinely interested, which only confused Nabiros further.

"While Hecate was knocked out, Tekka took control of the bridge, and the rest of us secured the engine room." Valerie replied.

"That was where you were injured." Zagara said as she looked over Valerie.

"Yes." the ex-reporter nodded, trying to read the Broodmother. Goddamn aliens and their lack of facial expression. "Why?"

"That is what I want to know." Zagara looked each of them in the eye. "Why did you risk your lives for your enemies?"

The crew's eyes slowly turned to Nabiros, expecting him to provide the answer. He was glad that the topic got to familiar ground for him. "You are not our enemy." he said with certainty. "You agreed to a cessation of hostilities. But I understand what you mean. Many of us lost home and loved ones to the Swarm. Each of us would have ample reason to hate the Zerg." Nabiros thought of how easily he made the decision to disable the Carrier. "But letting you suffer catastrophic losses when we had a choice to avert it would have stained our honour, forever and irredeemably, and I could not live with that knowledge."

"What is honour?" Zagara asked, though Nabiros had a hunch that she knew what it was but she wanted to know what it meant for him.

"Honour is the measure of your word." the Purifier replied. "At the most basic level, if you do what you say you would do, avoid causing harm to others, and seek mutually beneficial solutions in all your dealings, then you are an honourable person. Beyond that, it's up to the culture and the person in question."

Zagara nodded. "And why did they follow you? You are not their master."

"They trusted me not to get them killed." Nabiros blurted out in a burst of honesty. "They trusted that I knew what I was doing." he added for clarification.

"What is trust?" Zagara asked. Nabiros was now convinced that he was being tested, though for what reason he couldn't imagine.

"When you trust someone, you cannot be certain about what they will do but you believe that they will do good by you." the Purifier replied carefully.

Zagara looked him in the eye for a few moments. "Being saved by someone who is not Zerg is new and strange for me, for us." she said slowly, as if saying it was just as hard as admitting it. "I wanted to know why you did it."

"Why is it so important to you?" Valerie asked. Nabiros couldn't believe how quickly she could revert to being a journalist, even if, or perhaps specifically because of, being face to face with the current leader of the Swarm.

"The Zerg live in their blood, while you live in your heads." Zagara replied. "War is in the blood, peace is in the mind. There is much to be gained from mastering both." she looked at the holographic projector, as if deep in thought. "Our Queen was so much more than us, even before she absorbed the essence of that Xel'naga. She taught me much, but the recent months showed me that there is still much to learn." she turned back to Nabiros. "We do not fear hard choices. We do not tire, we do not relent. Our Queen evolved, and so will we."

"We might be able to help with that." Valerie glanced at Nabiros, a cheeky glint in her eye for a moment. Zagara turned to her, awaiting an explanation. "We would like to have a Zerg on our team. Doing so would allow us to prove to the rest of the world that cooperation is possible, and coexistence isn't far from that. If we can learn to trust a Zerg with our lives out of choice rather than necessity, like in the war against Amon, then others can do that too. We would also understand who you are as a people, which is an important element of trust. Lastly, it would be something the Zerg have never done before, in the good way, which is essential when you want to prove that you have changed your ways. There is a lot to gain from this, without losing or risking much."

This seemed to have ignited a fire in Zagara's eye, as it burned intensely, like a forge when fresh wood is thrown on the fire. She remained quiet for a few moments before she spoke. "Very well. I will send someone who will... bring honour to the Swarm." she turned to Nabiros, but gave what looked like an appriciative, if worryingly intense glance to Valerie. "I have to leave now. Make sure to stay until I send you my chosen." she hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to express herself. "You and your crew are welcome to visit Char any time. I will let the other Broodmothers know that you are not to be harmed."

* * *

"Zagara, what happened?" Stukov asked when she met up with him a few minutes later in the hangar bay. "You seem... strangely enthusiastic."

"We talked." the Broodmother said dismissively. "They asked me to give them a Zerg to be their newest crewmember."

"That is great news!" Stukov's worries dissipated, but only partially. "But that can't be everything."

"I had an idea." the infested Admiral could swear he saw Zagara grin.

"Are you going to tell me?" Stukov was growing very worried. Zagara never acted like this before, and Kerrigan was a prayer away (as near as far), and even then she might not put a muzzle on her overly enthusiastic Broodmother. He did not feel safe.

"I am only inexperienced in your politics, Stukov, not a fool." the Broodmother reprimanded him. "It is time to see if I was a good student. Tell Artanis and Valerian that I want to talk to them, immediately. I have arrangements to make."

* * *

Zagara was the last to arrive in what Artanis called his "war council chamber". It provided an excellent view of the Spear of Adun's interior as well as the void of space outside. Protoss soldiers, war machines, and spacecraft moved through it constantly, and probes flied about like worker bees. Artanis, Valerian, and Stukov looked nervous, they had no idea what she wanted. Zagara relished in their fear. It was good to remind them that just because they were not at war with the Zerg they couldn't let their guard down. She thought that in a way, this was more enjoyable than whipping the Swarm into a killing frenzy and herding them through sector after sector. That was amazing too, but this was new, and it had a very unique taste that she was growing to like more and more.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Broodmother Zagara?" Artanis asked, with a mix of impatience and moderately forced politeness.

"I have a proposal that will interest you. Several, in fact." seeing that none of them objected, Zagara continued. "The Zerg adapt faster than you, we cannot wait until you make up your mind about us. There is much to accomplish, and the Zerg will be at the forefront, as ever." she thoroughly enjoyed their reactions: Artanis was surprised and angry, Valerian was worried, and Stukov seemed to have given up control over the situation, though he was amused by her attitude. "The Daelaam obviously cannot keep the Tal'darim in check, nor can their Highlord. Fortunately, the Swarm can provide a solution. We can give you the coordinates of every planet with Feral Zerg living on them. The Tal'darim are a warlike people, tell them to hunt the Feral Zerg with our blessing. Their biomass would have been useful for the Swarm, but that means little to us now. That should give you time to make up your mind about the Tal'darim. If the Swarm can put a leash on its bloodthirst then so can they." Zagara saw that he caught them completely unprepared: by giving up on the Feral Zerg, the Swarm become a considerably lesser threat, since if they were to return to the fold, the balance of power in the sector would shift considerably. She never would have thought that diminishing someone's fears would scare them this much. She loved their confusion, it was even better than watching helpless Marines retreat through a Lurker ambush.

"Why is their biomass worth so little to you?" Valerian asked. Zagara liked him, he could get back on his feet quickly, like he did now.

"It is enough to make us strong enough to unite you against us, but not enough to make us the dominant power." she said flatly, her brutal honesty provoking a variety of emotions in Artanis and Valerian. "Mindlessly acquiring biomass is not the future of the Swarm."

"What is its future, then?" Artanis, ever the paranoid, ruled by his hatred against the Zerg and the love for his people. Zagara understood his position well, but it also made him easy to read, easy to bait.

"The Swarm has conquered enough stars to know its power." Zagara enjoyed seeing their surprise at how she trivialised the Swarm's military prowess, as well as the only thing they were good at. "We could repeat it until we die or there is no other life in the universe, but that would be repetition, not evolution. The Swarm must conquer itself, grow beyond its current limits. We will master peace, and all that comes with it. To that end, I will personally choose one of us who will join the Explorers. It is a small step, but the Zerg also began as one, small, harmless larva, and you all know what became of that."

* * *

Just barely an hour after talking with Zagara, Nabiros found himself on the receiving end of a very frustrated Artanis. He walked up his ramp, and all the Purifier captain could do to divert the impact zone to the conference room.

"I knew Zagara would come and talk to you about your daring attack on the Tal'darim Carrier, but I did not imagine you would give her ideas." Artanis was seething.

"I don't know what she did or said after she left, I can only take responsibility for asking her for a Zerg crewmember, if one was available." Nabiros was not about to let Artanis know that the recruitment was not his idea. He would disband his crew the second he realised that he wasn't the only one who had more than a few screws loose.

"But why would you do that?" Artanis asked, pacing up and down in the room. "Why would you want a Zerg monstrosity aboard your ship?"

"For equal representation." Nabiros lied. He assumed that Zagara explained it much how Valerie did, so he had to say something else to avoid getting turned into spare parts. "I already have Protoss and Terran in my crew, it seemed only fair that we had a Zerg one too. It seemed like a good opportunity to foster better relations."

Artanis walked up to him, and for a moment Nabiros thought he was going to hit or stab him. "Let me make this very clear for you, phase-smith: do not ever, ever again meddle in interspecies diplomacy. Do only as I command you, nothing more, nothing less."

"But Hierarch, you told me to help the Terran Dominion in any way I could." Nabiros couldn't stop himself. "Wouldn't you say that the Swarm actively supporting peace is in their and our best interest?"

Artanis' eyes narrowed. "Do not hide behind the letter of my order, phase-smith. I have been very generous with you. Do not make me regret that. This is your final warning."

Nabiros bowed his head in submission. "I understand, Hierarch. I will do my best to avoid interfering with your duties."

"See that you do." Artanis walked to the elevator-disc that connected the three decks of the ship. "I value initiative and excellence, but not when they exceed the boundaries of one's duty."

Something clicked in Nabiros, and acted before he thought. "If that were true, I would be in stasis aboard Cybros, waiting for the next war to win for the Protoss."

Artanis tensed, his stance turning from casual to combat in a moment. "Watch your words, Nabiros, or I will."

Nabiros didn't move an inch, he knew that Artanis could gut him like a Zergling if he wanted to, but he would rather die on his feet than live on his knees. "That's what the Templar on Lantinum told us too."

Artanis' fists clenched but he didn't move. "You are relieved of duty. Take your ship and crew. The next time we meet I will not be so merciful." with a thought, he activated the disc and left the ship.

After a few seconds to himself, Nabiros thought to himself, _That was the stupidest thing I've ever done, but by Adun it felt good._ As he thought about just how unnecessary this whole scene he caused was, his crew came up on the elevator.

"Nabiros, what happened?" Tekka asked. "Artanis looked so angry I thought he will cut as all in half."

"Well..." Nabiros didn't know how to phrase it at first but then he realised he just had to describe it the way he felt about it. "Artanis was upset that we meddled with the ongoing negotiations with our recruitment, and wanted to make it clear that this must never happen again. We almost left it at an almost peaceful tone, but then he acted like some high and mighty Judicator and I could never stand those bastards, so naturally I treated him as such, which, of course, got me relieved of duty. I still have the ship though, so everything is fine."

"Oh my god..." Valerie covered her mouth with her hand. "You... you got fired because of me?"

"No, I can say with absolute certainty that I was fired because of my own impulsive nature." Nabiros laughed. He felt so light, so free.

"One would think that your circuits make you the opposite." Tekka chuckled. This wasn't the first time that Nabiros couldn't shut up and life got more exciting.

"Look at the bright side, at least now we're freelancers, we don't answer to anyone but ourselves." Konrad seemed to be happy about this turn of events.

" **This is so exciting!** " Hecate seemed to be enjoying itself. Small wonder. " **Now we can go to the beach!** "

Nabiros couldn't believe that twelve millenia-old scholars' first thought after becoming homeless and jobless was going on a vacation. But then again, it's not like they had more pressing concerns... yet...


	28. Chapter 26

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.16

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Late afternoon

After having explained what just happened between him and Artanis, Nabiros sent his crew to rest and think for a few hours. Then, they would reconvene in the conference room and discuss their future. Konrad and Valerie sat down to eat, drink, and talk in her room, while Tekka and Hecate returned to their rooms, probably to meditate. Nabiros also decided that being alone with himself for a while would be for the best, and did some research on current Daelaam and old Khalai laws. Unsurprisingly, the Daelaam legal system was still a work in progress, and had nothing pertaining to his situation. Khalai law, on the other hand, had a lot, and much to his surprise, his situation wasn't _that_ bad, it was just... nebulous.

Someone knocked on his door. It was a Terran practice, and although it stemmed from an inferiority (a lack of telepathic ability), it was a thoughtful custom. He wondered if he should really stop looking down on the Terrans. He made good progress but he knew there was still room for imporvement. He disconnected himself from the archives, walked to the door, and opened it. It was Valerie, and... "You seem nervous."

"Emperor Valerian is here." she said quietly, for some reason. "He wants to talk to you."

Nabiros was surprised for a milisecond, then he thought of how his day went so far. "Gather everyone in the conference room. I will escort Emperor Valerian there personally." he said as he exited his room.

"Roger." Valerie nodded and walked off to Tekka's room, which was to the left of his. To his right was the forge but there was no direct door to it on this corridor.

Nabiros rushed down to the cargo deck, where he saw Valerian waiting patiently before the ship's lowered ramp, with four marines in special white-grey suits as his honour guard. He moved to meet him, easily as tall as his bodyguards, who seemed a little tense on what to them was an alien ship. He suddenly felt bad about feeling the same on the Avalanche, except he was worried that the crude bucket of bolts would explode.

"Emperor Valerian, it is an unexpected pleasure to see you!" Nabiros greeted him as he walked down the ramp. "How may I be of service?"

The young man's face was serious, and concerned. "Artanis told me that you are no longer under his command but did not say anything else. What happened?"

"Oh." Nabiros thought that Artanis would have said much worse things about him to Valerian, though he certainly did not think that he would bother to discuss it with him, let alone visit him. "I think we should discuss this inside."

"Wait here." Valerian said to his guards, then turned back to Nabiros. "Lead on."

When they ascended to the conference room on the elevator-disc, they saw that the rest of the crew was already there, waiting for them nervously.

Nabiros gestured at the head of the table. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Valerian sat down at the head of the table. To his right sat Nabiros, Valerie, and Konrad; to his left, Tekka and Hecate. "So tell me, what happened between you and Artanis?"

"He was not pleased with my meddling with politics." Nabiros said flatly. "Broodmother Zagara came to talk with us about the incident with the Tal'darim Carrier above Char. I asked her if she could assign one of her brood to our crew and she seemed very interested. I believe she told Artanis as much, which somehow became a political question. He came to me here and told me not to meddle with politics again, and we almost parted on tolerable terms, but then we started trading less than friendly remarks and it escalated to the point where he relieved me of duty."

"What does that mean among your people?" Valerian asked, none too happy about the situation but he seemed determined to deal with it somehow. "Among us it wouldn't mean too much."

"I'm not going to bore you with the details but ultimately it's up to interpretation." Nabiros replied. "Legally, I'm no longer bound by any obligation towards anyone. I could still go back to Aiur and do whatever I wanted in Daelaam space, within reason of course. However, other Protoss also have no obligations toward me. I could be easily denied service of any kind by anyone and there would be nothing I could do about it. Being relieved of duty is usually part of an investigation where they don't yet assume you're a criminal but you've still done something you really shouldn't have. However, there was no legal procedure, but since the Hierarch has absolute authority he can do that. It is like being exiled but much less harsh: you're still not welcome but you're tolerated. In practice, this means that the Khalai will probably not be happy to see me, while the Purifiers, the Nerazim, and the local Tal'darim will have a mixed approach, depending on how hard they want to be on good terms with the Khalai."

"That's the most uncertain bad news I've ever heard." Konrad muttered.

Valerian thought for a few moments. "What do you want to do?"

"We were going to talk about this just now." Nabiros looked around the table. "I understand that the circumstances have changed significantly compared to when you joined. If you want to leave I understand and you are free to go, I will be more than happy to drop you off wherever you want me to."

"We're all homeless, Nabiros." Valerie chuckled. "We're not going anywhere."

"This ship is our home, rather." Tekka said. "We're not leaving you."

" **You are not getting away that easily.** " Hecate laughed.

"It's not like we have anything better to do." Konrad shrugged.

Nabiros was glad and relieved that his crew unanimously decided to stay but this was not the time for feelings. "Very well. I appriciate it. Before we decide on our next course of action, I believe it would be best if we decided what our long-term plans are. Personally, I would like to establish a base of some sort, where we can go home to without having to worry about who is upset with us. We could easily produce enough trade goods that we could trade with the Terrans for whatever Valerie and Konrad need, and we could establish relays to keep in touch with the rest of the world."

"Having seen you work on the forge, I do not doubt that." Konrad said. "But as much as I like the idea, I don't want to become a hermit, I don't want to be out of the loop. I know it complicates things, but I think we should move to where other people live."

"I agree with Konrad." Valerie nodded. "I know that you three would have no problem living alone on an uninhabited island, but we like people and diverse company in general."

" **We agree with that thought."** Hecate leaned back in its chair. " **A static environment is not something we would look forward to.** "

"I don't care either way, as long as the weather is good." Tekka said with mild disinterest. "I want to live in a nice place for once."

"I'm glad we agree on settling down in some fashion, though having to do that on an already inhabited planet makes this difficult." Nabiros suddenly imagined them living on Char, and while it would have been an interesting experience, he would rather not if fate permitted it.

"I can help with that." Valerian offered. "There is a small cluster of systems that could use your help. After your incident with pirates, I had enough proof to push my administration to make a few deals with a number of mercenary companies and enclaves to clean their general area of piracy, in return for amnesty and a few shipments of armaments. This not only made us more popular with the mercenaries and the colonies but also made piracy unfeasible in the mercenaries' territories."

"How do you know they are not just sending you false reports about their progress?" Valerie asked.

"Firstly, there is a liaison in every company and enclave whose loyalty is unquestionable." Valerian then leaned closer in on the table and smiled innocently. "And we also told them that cleaning out the pirates would also remove potential thralls for the hybrid who may or may not be roaming the sector in small packs."

" **Well played, our Emperor. The threat alone is enough to get them to do your bidding, regardless of what they think about you or what you're telling them.** " Hecate sounded proud, as if Valerian was its own son or student.

Valerian smiled at the praise and continued. "However, there is also bad news. The pirates pulled out of the threatened systems after seeing that they can no longer live off of easy prey, and eventually gathered in the Scarlet Dragon cluster."

"What is a dragon?" Tekka asked.

"I'll explain later." Valerie hushed her. "Please, continue."

"The cluster was colonised after the Brood War, partially as a show of strength for our people, but mostly to secure the wealth of natural resources there." Valerian continued. "Back then we still competed with the Kel-Morian Combine and the Umojan Protectorate, so there were also political factors involved. Unfortunately, the most recent war ruined our interstellar communications network, and we have no contact with the colony. We only know that they are still out there, and that the small garrison there was most likely overrun by the apparently united pirate fleet."

" **Where is this cluster?** " Hecte asked. " **Our knowledge of celestial maps was never noteworthy.** "

"It is relatively near to both Zerg and Protoss space." Valerian seemed to struggle to say only this little, the sea of knowledge in his mind packaged into a glass of water by his discipline. "It's not on the borders but close. Its planets are seldom pretty but it has vast natural resources and it is very well placed from a logistical perspective."

"I wanted to live on a planet with a beach..." Tekka grumbled.

"What do you want us to do?" Valerie asked quickly to keep everyone on topic.

"I'm asking you to eliminate the pirate threat in the Scarlet Dragon cluster." Valerian said flatly. "In return, I can offer you land on a planet of your choosing, citizenship, and passports guaranteeing free passage across Terran space. If you decide to settle down there and keep the colonies safe that would be much appriciated. I would rest easier knowing that my people there are safe."

" **To clarify: we need not take prisoners?** " Hecate was brimming with excitement and a good measure of bloodlust.

"You _should not_." Valerian's face and tone turned grim. "Those who act like pests should be treated as pests."

Hecate leaned closer to Valerian. " **You have our word, there will be no survivors.** "

"The cluster shall be cleansed of their taint." Nabiros nodded. He was surprised just how much he wanted to murder those pirates, though he had to admit, he had the same mentality as Valerian on this: all those who dare harm his people would face extinction. He didn't care too much about the Terrans but he found an honourable, respectable man and leader in Valerian. There was a sense of camaraderie, to his surprise, between two protectors of different peoples, and he found himself compelled, both by this and the principles he stood by.

"Good." Valerian said as he stood up. "I thank you. Now, I must leave to attend to my duties. Best of luck to you, and be safe."

After Nabiros left the room with Valerian, Valerie asked Hecate. "Are we really going to take on what sounded like a small army by ourselves?"

" _It is not like we are going to fight them face to face, you know._ " the left head chuckled. "With a Zerg addition, who will most likely be a terror in combat because Zagara would hardly send anything but her best, we are more than enough. _It is only a matter of time._ **You have been a soldier for too long, our dear Valerie, and their way of thinking became the only way you know with certainty. If the feeble psionic assassins you Terrans have are called ghosts and spectres, you will be a nightmare: even less tangible but even more terrifying.** "

"I always wanted to see how the Nerazim hunted." Tekka leaned back in her chair. "I never would have thought that I would experience it as a hunter."

"That's all fine and good but how will we deal with their fleet?" Konrad asked.

" **Between a stealth-fighter and us, unless they have a large fleet or big ships we will be fine.** " Konrad looked confused. " **Do we have to spell it out for you? We will pick up our hammer and brutalise their ships with it, and...** "

"You will do no such thing." Nabiros said as he returned.

It was Hecate's turn to be confused. " **Why?** "

"It would be a waste of ships." Nabiros said coldly. "The ships can still be used. It is the biomass that is irredeemable."

As they listened to Hecate's dark laughter, Valerie and Konrad looked at each other. This will not be like fighting the Swarm or Amon, where they were the underdogs fighting for survival. No, in this mission, the pirates are the underdogs and they were the ones inflicting horror and death upon them. They were both worried for their souls, for somewhere deep within they could feel a dark thrill that promised more, in return for the blood of fools and weaklings coating cold steel corridors.


	29. Chapter 27

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.16

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Evening

Artanis stood before his Executor Council's holographic representation, having just delivered Zagara's proposal. The mood was tense.

"As impressive as this is from Zagara, the Feral Zerg were necessary for the status quo to remain." Vorazun was deep in thought. "And we can't simply tell Zagara not to do it, we are in no position to force her not to give her permission to Alarak personally, even if Emperor Valerian helped us, but from what you've told he is very much in favour of this idea."

"Of course he is." Yalara rolled her eyes. "He has no idea about Protoss internal affairs, he doesn't know about the discontent among Alarak's Tal'darim. From his perspective, this is the best way to buy time for his people to strengthen their armies and fleets, while also putting a dent in Alarak's. It also removes the Feral Zerg from the board, making the Swarm a much lesser threat."

"What he does not realise is that this will give Alarak exactly what he wants." Selendis continued her Tal'darim counterpart's chain of thought. "An opportunity to eliminate his rivals and all those who are not entirely obedient to him, and to placate his own supporters. He will lose some of his strength but that is nothing compared to the benefits of the unison it will foster among them."

"But what could he accomplish with it?" Talandar asked dismissively. "The Terrans are steadfast allies, and the Swarm is putting itself in a weakened position to show its sincerity in its pursuit of a peaceful future. From their perspective, after the eradication of the Feral Zerg, we could join the Tal'darim in exterminating the rest of the Zerg in the sector, driving them to extinction. If the Tal'darim declared war on us they would join us in repelling them."

"You are quick to put faith in the student of Kerrigan, Talandar." Artanis said grimly. "Zagara could just as well attack us when that happens, forcing us into a war on two fronts that we cannot win, then she would have a chance to finish off the Tal'darim. I do not want to place the future of our people into the hands of the Zerg."

"Then you're putting it in Alarak's." Yalara said flatly. "I'd rather trust a broodmother's survival instinct than Alarak's sense of camaraderie."

"Those are not favourable odds." Vorazun remarked.

"Then assassinate Alarak." Yalara shrugged. "None of the current Ascendants have yet established the renown necessary to become a truly respected Highlord, partially due to lack of time and opportunity since Amon's demise, partially because of Alarak's charismatic and ruthless leadership. If he dies, the Tal'darim will descend into civil war and reduce themselves into a much more manageable size."

"You know as well as I that it is not that simple." Vorazun glared at Yalara. "Alarak is a powerful warrior and he is very well guarded. An army of assassins would have trouble killing him. We talked about this, and only the two of us were in favour."

"Then send Nabiros and his Explorers." Yalara replied dismissively. "After the debacle with the Carrier, we could always claim we had nothing to do with it, whether or not they fail. After all the things they accomplished they might just succeed."

"We will not." Artanis' eyes narrowed as he looked at Yalara. "I have relieved him of duty."

"What?!" Talandar was shocked. "Why?"

"For insubordination." Artanis said flatly. "And he may have been the one who gave Zagara the very idea that is causing us so much difficulty."

"Nabiros might be headstrong but he is not disloyal!" Talandar was progressing from shock to anger. "And what proof do you have that he did what you claim he did?"

"Zagara went to talk to him about his heroics above Char." Artanis was not pleased that a Purifier is challenging him again for the second time this day. "She summoned Emperor Valerian and I immediately after that, then gave us her proposal."

"That's not proof, that's conjecture!" Talandar never would have thought that one day he would fight for Nabiros, of all people, this vocally. "I challenge your ruling! I will put him on trial before his brethren and he will answer for what he has done, if he _has_ done anything at all, as honour demands, and the _law_ demands! You are our Hierarch, Artanis, and I recognise that, but I will not let you tarnish the name of a faithful warrior purely because you distrust him!"

Artanis waved dismissively. "Very well, proceed with your trial. I trust my instincts. I await my vindication."

* * *

"So how does this trial work?" Valerie asked, her usual curiosity clouded by her frustration over what she saw as a farce. She was leaning against the wall of the small bridge, on one side of the door.

"The Purifiers are made up of warriors and... civilians, to use a Terran expression, who have a similar mindset." Nabiros found himself casually explaining the event that will decide his fate, and its cultural and practical aspects. In the meantime, he was making a few adjustments to the bridge's interface to allow for what is to come. "Normally, lower members of the Judicator caste would preside over a trial, but since we have none of those we will simply convene and discuss until we can reach a consensus."

"In theory, the Khalai could lend a judge." Tekka explained, standing in the door. "But according to standing Daelaam law, each faction has the right to put their own on trial according to their own laws and customs. The law of the Daelaam takes precedence over the others', of course, otherwise there would be chaos. For example, if a Tal'darim would kill a Nerazim for an insult, normal Tal'darim law would see it as perfectly fine. However, according to Daelaam law, it would be a very serious crime, so Tal'darim law must treat it as such. In this case, the murderer is executed on the spot."

"I know what the Daelaam is..." Konrad looked up at Tekka on his left in confusion. "But the rest are... who exactly?"

Tekka stared at Konrad for a few seconds before answering. "The Khalai are the blue-eyed Protoss, the ones who Tassadar lead to purge Terran space of the Zerg infestation in the beginning of the Great War. The Nerazim are the Dark Templar, with green eyes and those... veils. Zeratul was one of them. The Tal'darim are the red-eyed Protoss, like me. They have hidden themselves from the Khalai ages ago, to serve the will of Amon. The Purifiers are... well, I'll leave that to Nabiros."

Nabiros stopped. His mind raced to find a way to explain what the Purifiers were in terms the Terrans would understand, not because they were unintelligent but because they did not have the technological understanding that is necessary to make sense of the finer points of a Purifier's existence. It also put his own understanding of his own people to the test, and found concern growing in him, as parallel realizations of the scope and importance of this seemingly simple question created a sense of pressure and heavy responsibility that he had never felt before. His own identity was also put into a different light, one that found many shadows that hid precious and dangerous truths. And yet, there was an answer, albeit one whose consequences even Nabiros dared not imagine.

"The Purifiers are... complicated." Nabiros began slowly. "Your artificial intelligences bear some similarity but compared to us they are like a wooden spear to an orbital bombardment cannon. The intention of our makers was to make copies of the greatest Templar, soldier and leader alike, that can be put in a vast array of shells that they can wear like one wears their clothing, and change it with the same ease.

The plan backfired when the ruling Judicators treated us as slaves instead of people. There was a... brief conflict that ended with us put in stasis aboard Cybros, a vast ship roughly in the same league as the Spear of Adun, although their purposes are significantly different. I've learned that the technology itself was not abandoned, however, and was perfected. It branched out into two distinct paths: the first were the true robots, artificial intelligences without personalities but considerable combat skills. The second were the true individuals, the copies of living Protoss.

It was hoped that this... version would maintain the source personality without error or what they saw as corruption. However, they reached only the first prototype stage when the Zerg arrived. This prototype is known today as Talandar, Executor of the Purifiers. I should note that our original commander, Executor Clolarion, shares this rank with him. Clolarion is an excellent commander but his social skills are just as bad as the original's, so Talandar represents us on the Executor Council, the ruling body of the Daelaam, which is headed by the Hierarch, Artanis. But I digress.

However, the same happened to Talandar as to us: being self-aware, in time he noticed that his memories originate from another self-aware entity, not from him. It created a conflict of identity. Fortunately for him, Artanis handled it much better than the Conclave in our time, so while we became hostile to those we saw as enslavers, Talandar found peace in becoming Artanis' champion. There was also a world-ending war going on so there wasn't much time to ponder either, so it makes sense that his solution to his identity crisis proved to be... insufficient.

After the war was over and our priorities shifted from survival to rebuilding, I had much more time to think, as did others. Doubt began to gnaw at many but our sense of duty held us in check. Hunting the hybrid within and around our borders also helped most but some, like myself, were left home to help rebuild our homes and infrastructure. It was good, honest work that needed to be done but it put hardly as much pressure on our mental capacity as combat. We had time to think.

There was a... growing minority, who believed that the true nature of the Purifiers has yet to be discovered and explored, and... I was the most vocal among us, so you could say that I was their leader but in truth we were just people trying to make sense of themselves and their place in the world. So it retrospect, it seems inevitable that I ended up in... an argument. The details are irrelevant but a few Khalai phase-smiths, who were understandably upset by how most Tal'darim showed no respect to them, were wondering if the Tal'darim qualify as Protoss. They might have the same body but their spirit is very different, they said. In a moment of unchecked emotion, I told them that if the Tal'darim are questionably Protoss, then the Purifiers are most assuredly are a different species. We have vastly different bodies, after all, and even though we don't cause trouble, we are different people. We are more contemplative, or maybe I should say 'cautiously passionate', I don't really know how to define it. Being mechanical entities, our thoughts are not swayed by hormones or fatigue, and our bodies grant us enough free capacity to think carefully even in a conversation, though that does not mean that we are perfect, just knowing me should put that statement into a more accurate perspective. But again, I digress.

So that argument escalated to the point where I deduced, based on available facts, that the Tal'darim are very much Protoss, while the Purifiers are not, and whatever similarities exist today will fade in time, as our own identity and culture develops. That in turn eventually escalated to me standing before the Executor Council and having to explain myself. Artanis ordered me to find the answer for this conundrum: who and what are the Purifiers? And to be absolutely truthful with you, I think we are just another people, with our own context as any other sapient species. We are all souls in different shells with different roots. The only unique thing about the Purifiers is that we are just a sapling, with barely any roots and leaves."

"Just like the Zerg." Valerie chimed in.

" **We had hoped someone would point that out.** " Hecate chuckled from behind Tekka, where it was standing in silence since the beginning of the conversation.

"... What." was all Nabiros could manage, as half his mind stopped working at the sheer insolence of the comparison, while the other tried to make sense of it and maintain essential systems.

"Come on, we talked about this." Valerie waited a second to see if it rang any bells for Nabiros. "The Zerg never had the opportunity to contemplate their identity, even under Kerrigan's rule they were just the nastiest bioweapon of the galaxy, used like a beatstick, just as before. Now they have Zagara with Stukov as a different but still partially familiar perspective. They are exploring who they are just as you say you are, and they don't want to end up as someone else's abused beatstick ever again, just like you."

There were several tense seconds that crawled by like a Vulture being pulled through mud that intel warned may have mines in it. Nabiros was elbow deep in the controls in the front, his bulk unmoving, only the sound of the ship's gentle hum could be heard. Nabiros slowly stood up, turned to Valerie, and walked up to her. His glowing yellow visor, like the eye of some mechanical cyclops, stared at her like the gaze of judgement itself. Valerie did not flinch, gambling that Nabiros wasn't trying to be intimidating. This wasn't how she imagined he would have gone about that.

Finally, Nabiros spoke. "As utterly distasteful, insulting, frightening, unholy, confusing, disgusting, infuriating, and abominable the mere thought of it is, let alone the comparison and its implications, it is a petrifyingly and alarmingly accurate assessment."

"Umm... thank you?" Valerie, with almost no body language or facial expressions to work with, had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

"I thank _you_." Nabiros replied as he returned to his work. "I always appriciate unique perspectives."

"Different topic." Konrad chimed in. "What are you working on, exactly?"

"Since we are not bound by our bodies, I need not physically go to any place for the trial." Nabiros replied. "I need only send my consciousness to Cybros, the hub of our network. Due to the distance and out of a sense of courtesy, I can't simply discuss this through a holographic projection. In the meantime, my shell will be powered down. I'd ask you to be on your best behaviour while I'm gone but that would be like asking the sun not to rise."

"When will you be back?" Valerie asked with apparent concern in her voice.

"By tomorrow night, I think." Nabiros sounded like he was going to visit someone, and not as if his life depended on it. "We talk very fast amongst ourselves."

"See you tomorrow, then." Konrad said as he turned to leave. "Come on, let's leave him to his work."

With a little reluctance, they all left the small room. _They are good people,_ Nabiros thought. _They worry if I will come back alive. Much more exciting things could happen than my execution, and even that would not stave off the inevitable. We are not Protoss. What does that mean for the Daelaam?_


	30. Chapter 28

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.17

 **Location:** Cybros, Purifier Network  
 **Time:** Afternoon

The trial did not got as Nabiros had expected. He knew that his testimony would have to be backed up by his memories but instead they went through everything that happened with him after coming out of stasis on Cybros, when Artanis began activating the Purifiers. He had thought that the trial would be about his unwise conduct but to his surprise the others believed that the encounter had a greater context than it had at first glance.

They investigated every thought he had, every impulse he acted upon without thinking. Nabiros did not appriciate this level of scrutiny but understood their perspective. He also found out that the oddity he sensed back when he visited Aiur by command of Artanis was that there were no Purifiers on Aiur, only him. He wasn't the only one to be contacted by Protoss who claimed to be their family members. Many had encounters like his own but few reacted as well as he did. He had always known that his people were developing doubts but he had never imagined that so many would become so confused. All Purifiers were recalled to Cybros until a solution could be found. That was what they really wanted from him.

He wasn't sure they were prepared for it.

"I cannot tell you the truth because their is none." even in the disembodied realm of the Network, Nabiros felt small under the pressure of the presence of the entirety of his peers, for the first time during the trial. "I can only tell you what facts there are to be found and what I believe in."

His audience waited patiently for him to continue.

"There are two facts that must be considered: that we are not Protoss, and that all we know is to be Protoss. Our physical and mental capabilities are vastly different than the Protoss', giving us a perspective that is considerably different from theirs. Our memories might belong to Protoss who have long since been dead, our technology might belong to the Protoss, and we might have joined the Protoss in their darkest hour, but ultimately we have become different, separate entities, both as individuals and as a people.

My interpretation of these facts, and therefore my belief, is that we must leave behind the Daelaam to find our own way of life, to fight for what we believe in, to be free to choose our own fate, just as how many of us have chosen their own name. I have no ill will for the Protoss, nor do I intend to leave them to their fate. We are their children, and we should treat them with the respect due to a parent: although we have grown up as a separate person, we will look after them. Not only out of filial duty, but because we share many beliefs and we have a shared ancenstry.

Some of you consider this betrayal, I know that well. However, it was not we who swore oaths, but those whose memories we were given. We have sworn allegiance to the Daelaam and that will not change. We will move out from our parents' home to build our own.

Some of you are confused as to how that will be achieved, some are even concerned that we would have to reinvent everything. Why would be do that? Why should we feel bad about using anything they gave us? We have fought and died by their side in battle, have we not earned them? And what could they do about it, to be blunt? Why would they care? Why should we? We should work with what we have and move on.

The real question is: what do you want?"

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.17

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Late afternoon

Artanis didn't mind Talandar calling the Executor Council into session. He knew not why but Talandar insisted that the outcome of the trial concerns the entirety of the Council. Nabiros may have been an issue but he was not worth the time of every Executor.

"Talandar, what news do you bring?" Artanis asked one of the four holographic projections.

"The part of the trial regarding Nabiros' alleged misconduct concluded that his conduct was poor and was subjected to disciplinary action." Talandar didn't sound like he cared much. "However, we did not find him insubordinate in any way." he held up a hand to stop Artanis' retort. "I am not finished, Hierarch. We have investigated your claim regarding Nabiros being the mastermind of the new Zerg strategy. We have watched his memories, and concluded that while it did seem like Zagara drew inspiration from the conversation, neither Nabiros nor his crew have said anything remotely related to what she did afterwards. We recognise that your instincts were correct, Hierarch, but also that they were limited, and that you acted rashly and without evidence. We determined that nothing more needs to be done. We consider the case closed."

"That is... not quite what I expected." Artanis had a hard time coming to terms with being both right and wrong. Usually he was simply right or wrong. "Very well. His relief of duty is hereby cancelled."

"That will not be necessary." Talandar didn't sound happy at all.

Artanis was confused. "How so?"

"The second, more important part of the trial revolved around his claim that the Purifiers are not Protoss." a sudden weight descended on the room upon Talandar's words. "We will send you the relevant parts of his testimony and the discussion it created. "Talandar paused. He was about to say something he never would have thought he would have to say, even if he thought he was doing the right thing. "Ultimately, we determined that the Purifiers will leave the Daelaam. " he looked around his stunned audience, trying to explain himself. "We are not Protoss. We do not know what or who we are, not with certainty. We do not want to, nor can we, solve this problem if we live among you, treated like fellow Protoss without being one. We cannot live this lie any longer. We must face the truth. However, we will continue to stand as allies of the Daelaam, ready to protect it from any danger. We might stand apart, but we stand together."

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.17

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Evening

Nabiros uploaded himself to his shell but decided not to activate it just yet. He wanted to think. There was a lot on his mind, he didn't want to face his crew without being certain.

He wanted to say that the Purifiers leaving the Daelaam was not his doing. It was true, in a sense, since the others were under no spell of his, they decided to do it on their own. On the other hand, he felt responsible. He was the one who became the voice of their inner turmoils, the one who expressed what they knew in some hidden part of their minds. He also voted for leaving, and he found himself in the majority this time. They chose this path together, and they will have to walk it together. So where did responsibility rest? With all of them, with additional notes to his own part in all this.

His punishment for his substandard behaviour was surprising: the Purifiers went on to find their home without him, while he was given orders to fulfill his promise to Emperor Valerian, and establish a base of operations for his crew. It surprised him how much it hurt him, that he would be left out of such a monumental decision, such a self-defining moment in the history of his people. It sent a clear message: the home of the Purifiers was no home of his. They knew his heart and they knew that he would be out of his element there, that he belonged on his ship, with his crew, completing the tasks his fate set out for them. Maybe it wasn't banishment, maybe it was a recognition and respect of who he became. He heard the words, he knew their intent, but the pain was there, the pain of perceived banishment. He found it unnerving that even though he possessed clear, logical thinking unrivalled by any species in the Koprulu Sector, he could still go against logic and be ruled by emotion. This will take some getting used to, consciously, admitting that it exists, not just pretending it doesn't and trying to move along.

He still felt like a wayward child kicked out of his home, but he knew he was overreacting and that in time he will have a more rational view of these events. He wasn't proud about how he treated Artanis, he thought he should have been more open and less confrontational. He should have trusted Artanis' instincts but instead he lost control and acted out of a reflexive hatred he didn't even know boiled within him. He remembered a friend of the one whose memories he was given telling him 'You cannot know justice without knowing hatred, because the anger you feel upon witnessing injustice is what pushes you to set things right'. He had a feeling he could go on for days musing like this without producing any worthwhile thoughts, so he quickly began starting up his shell.

Much to his surprise, he found himself face to face with a Zerg creature. Normally, he would have lashed out, but the lack of hostility on the creature's part stayed his hand, as well as his common sense pointing out the probability of a Zerg assassin existing.

The two stared at one another for a second. Nabiros was standing where the pilot's seat would normally be, facing the door, the cables connecting him to the ship's mainframe falling off as they are detached. Before him, a Zerg biped stood as tall as him... depending on how you defined its height. Oddly enough, it looked like a Hydralisk with two strong, clawed legs (it looked like someone scaled up a Zergling's hind legs and put some protective carapace on it), and a pair of large and another pair of small arms that, upon closer inspection, had 5 clawed fingers. The larger arm's hands had impressive claws on them but Nabiros didn't think they were explicitly meant for combat. The tail, besides being a sinuous and agile thing, probably also helped with the weight distribution of the creature, considering its bent back, which seemed to Nabiros like the main cause for concern.

The... torso of the creature had three separate parts. The lower part served to connect the legs to the body as well as its main support. The upper part seemed like a living furnace with its creepy orange glow and the way it had a breathing motion to it. The front end was armoured with carapace but only lightly. The back end of it was like a sack, with spines and what looked like vents providing its structure. The last part was what could with some faith called a neck, even though the thick and short mass of muscle could be barely seen under the head, which seemed to also act as the top/front armour or cover of the vaguely egg-shaped upper part. Its head shape resembled that of a Hydralisk, though it was better armoured and followed the shape of its upper body.

Upon looking into its face did Nabiros reconsider that maybe not the suspiciously breathing organ on its back was the main cause for concern. If a furnace ever had a face, one that came straight from a nightmare about Hydralisks burning with inner fire, then this would be it. Although it did not have the mandibles, instead it had what looked like three rows of teeth, and its jaws seemed to be the kind that could be extended to... 'accomodate' victims it normally could not fit in there. The openings of the head, mainly the eyes and the mouth, glowed with an inner, orange light, as if the creature as actually some bright, orange gas that possessed this body like a demon from Terran mythology. The realisation where Nabiros saw something like this before certainly did not help, nor did the predatory intelligence and focus he saw within those eyes.

"Your crew are not guarding you well." the creature said, its telepathically generated voice the sound of... a surprisingly not unpleasant mix of a moderately deep voiced Terran male, the growl of a tiger, and a brief echo. "None have tried to stop me. None of them are even aware of my presence."

"They did not feel the need to guard me." Nabiros replied, trying to sense the character of the Zerg. "I was not even here until a minute ago."

"You are here now." on the surface, it sounded like it was only plainly stating facts, but underneath Nabiros could sense a measure of amusement. "I could kill you before they arrived."

"If you wanted to do that you would have done so by now." Nabiros didn't want to admit but he enjoyed the banter, it's been a long time since someone threatened him face to face and looked like they could follow up on their words.

"They have proven lax." it gestured behind itself. "I have proven effective. I have earned my place among you."

Without a sound, Hecate crept into sight behind the Zerg, who seemed oblivious to its presence.

"I take it you are uncertain if we are worthy of you, after such a display?" Nabiros asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I will do as Zagara commanded me." the Zerg shrugged, an odd sight. "But I doubt your capability."

Hecate's black hand reached towards the Zerg, growing as it flew, then grabbed it like a doll. It screamed in surprise and struggled but Hecate's hand might as well had been a vice made out of reinforced neosteel. After a few moments it realised that it's useless to resist and stopped struggling, which made it look a little silly, as if his back was a peach ready to pop in Hecate's fist.

" **We commend your skill.** " Hecate laughed. " **But you need to work on your humility.** As if we had any right to talk. _You just HAD to ruin the moment, didn't you_? I'm trying to keep us from making the mistakes we have been recently, you should be thankful. _Alright, alright, but not now!_ "

Nabiros would have sighed if he had lungs.


	31. Chapter 29 - Special Edition

To celebrate the story reaching 10K views and 100K words (hurray!), I have managed to convince my brother to post a quick sketch on dA of the most recent member of the Explorers, a kind of "crutch for the imagination" I asked him to make for me some time ago so I could properly describe what I'm thinking of. Here's the link (there are dots around "deviantart" instead of dashes, otherwise somehow the first dozen or so characters magically disappear for no apparent reason):

tanathiel-deviantart-com/art/Zerg-Critter-sketch-704114133?ga_submit_new=10%3A1505241573

You might be familiar with his work; he has been around on dA for many years, or you may have come across, knowingly or not, his work in the Dawn of War 2 Elite Mod.

Anyways, thanks for sticking around, I hope you enjoy reading it! Cheers!

* * *

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.17

 **Location:** Tarsonis, high orbit, aboard the Spear of Adun  
 **Time:** Evening

The crew of the Explorer stood in a semi-circle around the Zerg newcomer in the conference room. Tekka was in her usual grey robes but Valerie and Konrad had already went to sleep: Konrad wore a light blue shirt and shorts, his cybernetic limbs giving off the slightest of whirrs every time he scratched his stubbly chin, while Valerie was in fluffy white slippers and bathrobe. Nabiros wondered if he should make acquisition of non-vital items a higher priority, like clothing, especially for Tekka, her wardrobe had two items altogether, including her new suit of armour. He also wondered if he is losing his ability to focus or that he was getting better at multitasking.

"What's your name?" Valerie broke the silence. Even though she was sleeping soundly a few minutes ago she was wide awake and appraising the creature before her.

"I am Grigory." the Zerg said, its voice missing the echo it previously had, Nabiros noticed, and most of its intimidating edge. Apparently, this one had a few interesting psionic tricks up its sleeve.

"That's a Terran name." Valerie seemed to have taken the role of interviewer with ease and enthusiasm. It was hard to tell if that was an accusation or an indirect question. When the Zerg did not reply for several seconds, she seemed to have made some mental adjustments to her approach. "Why do you have a Terran name?"

"Stukov named me." the creature said with an oddly human shrug. "He never told me, I never asked."

"How do Zerg get their names from anyways?" Konrad mused aloud. "It's not like they have a language, right?"

"Primal Zerg are born knowing their name." Grigory's voice sounded bored. "The Swarm's leader names anyone worth naming."

"So Stukov leads the Swarm?" Tekka asked provocatively.

"No. Zagara does." the Zerg seemed to ponder a moment. "Stukov only provides advice. He knows much that the Broodmothers don't."

"Why would Stukov name you then instead of Zagara?" Konrad asked, apparently purely out of curiosity. He never did come across like an interrogator.

Grigory's secondary hands started drumming on his chest, the claws clicking on the carapace. He seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments. "He and Zagara named us, based on what we did or how we acted." he looked at Nabiros. "That is all I want to say about this."

"Very well." Nabiros nodded, he himself growing uncomfortable with what the situation was turning into. Grigory's secondary hands stopped their drumming. "What of your skills? You have shown considerable talent in stealth, being able to hide your presence from even Hecate's senses."

" **Our unattentive senses.** " Hecated corrected him, then turned back to Grigory. " **We must admit, however, that you have talent, even if your skills are crude.** "

"Considering that he was born after Stukov joined the Swarm, he cannot be more than a few months old." Valerie mused, trying and failing to hide a sly grin, provoking grumpy glares from Hecate and Tekka. She turned back to Grigory. "So, stealth. What else?"

"I can synthesize various biochemicals." Grigory gestured with his left primary arm at his disturbing backpack. "Eat flesh, turn metal into slag, confuse, terrify, bind, incinerate, digest - all these I have experience with." he glanced at Hecate for a moment. "But I'm young and I have much more to learn."

"It makes sense..." Konrad muttered. When the others looked at him interrogatively, he explained himself. "Oh, it's just that I came across a few Defilers back in the day and this guy fits the bill. It's a good thing the Zerg never thought of creating a 2.0 of them and instead decided to dump them for some reason. They were nasty critters. Their core concept was, as far as I understand, a terrorist breed armed with a shockingly devastating biochemical warfare toolkit, but as long as you had decent scanners in place and some air support you could snipe them before they got close enough to cause problems - otherwise you could say goodbye to your entire base within the hour.

From the looks of it, Grigory here is the 2.0. If my memory of Defiler anatomy is correct then that glowy sack on his back is the incredibly oversized and probably improved version of the Defiler's... cancer factory organs. There's probably a tube in his throat that he can use to spray acid or other liquid-based menace he can concoct inside of him. The jaws might look like a weapon but it's actually designed to quickly consume biomass, usually other Zerg, to fuel the raw material and energy needs of his trademark abilities. He's built for speed and mobility rather than strength and durability, which is a significant improvement since the Defiler might have had a low profile but it was slow, even by Terran standards. Speaking of profile, he's quite large for an infiltration specialist but that's probably because of cost-efficiency reasons with regards to the internal organ design.

However, despite me saying he's the 2.0, the more I look at him the less I think that's true. See, those legs are like the hind legs of a Zergling in principle, and the head and the chest bear suspicious resemblence to that of a Hydralisk. He can't be a Primal Zerg, his design is far too streamlined compared to the more ad-hoc evolution of the Primals. He can't be a simple combat breed because then we wouldn't be having this conversation. The Swarm does not give true intelligence to any breed below Queen level, and even they are simplistic and straightforward. There are also the hands of the primary arms, they look suspiciously human and out of place. Zerg don't use hands too often, and even when they do, it only has three fingers, like the Queens'.

There's also the problem of his psionic abilities. Defilers had some but not the level or kind of skill that Grigory demonstrated. His ability to shroud himself from psionic detection is certainly new, and I'm guessing that like the old Defilers, he can manually control the... 'various biochemicals', to use his own words, with a mix of telekinesis and telepathy." Konrad scratched his chin in thought then shrugged. "But this is just an educated guess."

A few seconds of silence assured Tekka, Hecate, and Nabiros that they were not alone in underestimating Konrad, while Valerie quietly chuckled to herself.

"Impressive." Grigory's secondary hands slowly clapped a few times. "Stukov often said that to defeat your enemies, you must know yourself and your enemy, or you will inevitably fail. It is good that you are familiar with this as well." he turned to Nabiros. "But enough talk. We have a hunt to plan, do we not?"

"That would not be my word of choice." Valerie said, nervousness creeping into her voice as she remembered what they signed up for. "We are outgunned and outnumbered. I don't know how Nabiros presumes to deal with that."

Grigory laughed, his voice amused and cruel. "If guns and numbers are all they have then they are already dead."

Tekka and Hecate looked at each other then at Valerie and nodded. They seemed a little uncomfortable being on the same page as a Zerg terrorist breed.

Nabiros put a hand on Grigory's shoulder. "It is good that you are with us, Grigory. I trust them completely but it is always an advantage to have access to different perspectives. I will explain everything to you in detail but for now it is enough to say that the ones we are 'hunting' are to be eradicated to the last. Yes, they have maybe hundreds of soldiers and dozens of ships, but as you said, that is meaningless. We are veterans of the most brutal wars in history, while they are filth who prey on the weak. What are you then, Grigory?"

The importance of the question was not lost on Grigory. He eyed the hand on his shoulder for a few seconds, then looked Nabiros in the eye, the predatory grin on his face eerily resembling a Hydralisk's own that each of them knew so well, the grin that promised only horror leading up to an inevitable, painful death. "A quick learner."

"Well said." Nabiros nodded as the others chuckled, some a little nervously. He gestured at the rest of the crew with pride, looking each in the eye, receiving a nod from each of them. "Welcome aboard the Explorer."


	32. Chapter 30

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.19

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, low orbit aboard the Explorer  
 **Time:** Early morning

The Scarlet Dragon Cluster was made up of 7 stars, designated Alpha to Zeta, their planets numbered based on their distance from their star. Two stars formed its body, Beta and Gamma, and one each its head (Alpha), its wings (Delta), front and hind legs (Epsilon and Zeta), and tail (Eta). Delta-2 was designated as the first habitation colony, and each other system's planet or moon a mining colony.

It was a very good find; even with current terraforming and construction technology, there's usually only one or maybe two planets or moons that allow humans upon them. Here, however, each system had between 2 to 4, even if some were extremely cold or hot, making them impractical for habitation but they did allow for mining facilities to be established. That was precisely what the Confederacy needed back in the day: raw materials to feed the hunger of its factories.

Instead, the Confederacy fed the bellies of the Zerg Swarm, which threw a wrench in the colonisation plans, among other things. It was not until after the end of the Brood War that necessity and ability aligned once again. Arcturus Mengsk had the colonists set up self-sufficient colonies, to prevent any infiltration from the Kel-Morian Combine and the Umojan Protectorate, by avoiding the need for regular supply runs and thus any unnecessary traffic. Although neither faction reached this point in time unscathed, the Dominion no longer possessed the kind of military and economic advantage the Confederacy had over its rivals before the Great War that allowed it to get away with nearly anything. With the Zerg and the Protoss lurking beyond Terran space, the Dominion could ill afford a conflict if it could be avoided, even if it was just a couple colonies revolting thanks to infiltators. By the same token, the cluster was provided with a well-armed and well-trained garrison, to protect the colonists from themselves, pirates, and the occasional skirmish from any of the hostile factions out there. Anything less than a proper invasion or siege would have had a hard time dislodging them.

The conflict revolving around Amon's rebirth and banishment had avoided them entirely. With still no supply lines yet set up, since the infrastructure to meet any quota worth providing the logistics for had yet to be established, they were of little consequence to Amon or anyone else. However, with the increasing chaos in Terran space, pirates began probing the cluster for easy pickings. The few who returned to their fellows spoke of well defended planets and a very alert garrison. At roughly the same time, with Valerian's re-establishment of order in most of Terran space, the many disparate pirate gangs assembled into a considerable fleet. The various mercenary groups and enclaves, in an effort to increase their own odds of survival, forged an uneasy military alliance, which allowed them to deploy a fleet approximately the same size as the pirates', thus creating a deterrent that forced the pirates out of the territories under the mercs' protection.

Suddenly the Scarlet Dragon cluster became the easiest target for the pirates - and this is as far as Dominion intelligence was aware. It was expected that the garrison fell, probably putting a dent in the pirates' fleet and ground troops. Unfortunately, once the pirates could take control of the military factories of the garrison, however small they are, they would be better armed and supplied than ever before. Although the colonies had no means to build their own ships (a deliberate security measure), their starports were equipped to provide repairs and maintenance for large cargo haulers and anything smaller than that. It was theorised by Dominion engineers that even with mediocre know-how, the starports could be expanded to allow for the construction of spacefaring vessels, given the proper schematics. Depending on the personnel they had and the amount of trial and error involved, military analysts warned the Emperor that these pirates could become a very real threat in only a few years, eventually becoming a small pirate empire. Additionally, with how delicate the diplomatic situation was in the Sector, an attack by the pirates upon the Zerg or the Protoss could be perceived as an attack by the entire Terran race, or it would be blamed upon them for not being able to deal with their own, and would thus be a threat to the truce won at so high a cost upon the death of Amon.

The Explorer stalked the cluster, its stealth field hiding it from the rather basic sensors of the patrols, gathering whatever intelligence it could, using its sophisticated sensor array and Hecate's mind probing abilities. Eventually, they concluded that the pirates have conquered the cluster and took control. They were well organised and disciplined, which was a surprise, considering the demographics involved. Apparently, their boss ran a tight ship, and was in a rush to prepare for the Dominion to show up with a fleet of Battlecruisers, laying waste to his nascent empire, a sentiment that proved very effective in keeping his army of cutthroats in line. The Scarlet Scourge, as they called themselves now, restored the old garrison's defences to the best of their ability, and used the colonists as slave labour to create more ships. They had Wraith fighters, albeit without stealth devices, roughly Hercules-sized ships with weapon batteries big enough to threaten even a Battlecruiser, and old Confederacy-era Dropships packed with explosives, extra armour and engines, which would be remotely driven into said Battlecruisers to devastating effect. Their emulation of the actual Scourges amused Grigory quite a bit.

They also found that only the main habitation colony on Delta-2 and the mining colonies on Beta-3 and Gamma-1 (the two systems closest to Delta) were occupied, while the other four colonies were abandoned. The mining colonies were hastily expanded to house most of the colonists, leaving only a few on Delta-2, largely for maintenance and general menial tasks. From what Nabiros and his crew understood, the Scarlet Scourge did not aim to accomplish any long-term plan, so consumed it was by the perceived threat of an immediate Dominion response. While this did increase readiness and overall security, it also neatly divided the pirates and the colonists. Mingling of any kind was strictly prohibited, and while many were discontent with this obstruction of the normal flow of their lifestyle, the boss and his handpicked enforcers looked down upon such beastly satisfaction of trivial indulgences, when the prospect of their own pirate empire was slowly but surely becoming a reality. While this separation did create an opporunity to be exploited, it also put the colonists at risk, should the pirates believe that they were causing trouble or that supplying the mining colonies with food and such would no longer be in their best interest.

On Nabiros' insistance, the team first had to decide their overall goals. The safety of the civilians was unanimously declared the top priority, while making sure that there will be a colony left after they were done became a close second. After some debate they decided that they really should make an effort not to blow up every ship they find, since those could be put to good use by the colonists, especially for rebuilding and expanding later on.

Due to its expertise in such operations, Hecate was given command, on the condition it focuses strictly on the mission. Grigory found this flexibility in the chain of command odd, even if Nabiros was still their commander in practice. Although even Valerie admitted that this was an interesting comparison between the three species, there was no time to engage in a lecture-debate on each culture's way of task distribution and determining suitability for command.

Hecate, in an unusually brief presentation, explained the basics of Nerazim terror team tactics. Terror teams were the preferred, and thus first, response to lethal threats that were determined to be beyond persuasion or intimidation. There were 3 different roles, each with a mobile and a static version. The Archon briefly mentioned that there are also distinctions in terms of skill but saw no need to burden the crew with titles that meant nothing to them.

Screamers were the central element of a terror team. Overall, they were responsible for drawing the target to a specific location or route. A static Screamer would set up a trap and lure victims into it, while mobile Screamers usually drew the attention of as many guards as possible and led them into an ambush.

Haunters were the opposite: they denied an area or path to the target and made contesting or investigating it as unappealing or unfeasible as possible, in order to guide the target's steps. A static Haunter sets up shop in a key zone, which often also makes them responsible for keeping the team's own exit safe, while a mobile Haunter acts as a shepherd of sorts, usually employed when static Haunters would not suit the circumstances.

Maws were added to a team when the mission necessitated additional blades to support the Screamers and Haunters. While Screamers and Haunters require finesse and stealth, Maws require pure combat prowess, which meant that they were quite different personalities than the others. Their only job is to help the Screamer, usually as part of their traps and ambushes if static, and follow their lead if mobile. Tekka quietly explained to the Terrans and Grigory that to most Protoss, orifices were disgusting, and the thought of being swallowed whole by one was seen as a gruesome end, especially if it involved large fangs.

According to Hecate, a typical assassination performed by a team of Dark Templar against a well protected target would be as straightforward as one might guess: the mobile Screamer draws the attention of the target and leads them into a trap, where a few Maws wait in hiding, and a static Haunter was either ready to seal the area or securing the team's escape route. To Konrad's delight, the Archon mentioned that often the assassins had various devices for an even wider array of situations: teleport homers, stasis traps, force field generators, microscopic Observers, shield batteries, pylon crackers (a type of explosive, to Valerie's disappointment and Konrad's joy), power scramblers (to deny warping in or out of an area), and the dreaded "nightmare crystal", a piece of khaydarin infused with void energies that drew out the deepest fears of those lacking in willpower and set them loose upon them in form of hallucinations and sometimes very real environmental effects, such as lightning, fire, acid, or various kinetic effects.

This provoked an impromptu history lesson, since only Hecate and Nabiros were aware of the historical context. They briefly explained, in broad strokes, how the division between the Khalai and the Nerazim came to be, and how it eventually lead to the banishment and exodus of the Dark Templar. The Nerazim saw the Khala (which also had to be explained) as the ultimate expression of tyranny, since it practically allowed your own neighbours to police your thoughts, while the Khalai saw it necessary specifically because of the passions that ran rampant across Protoss society. Both sides blamed the other for starting this conflict but Hecate pointed out that this was also the "golden age" of assassins, when the majority of their current traditions and methods were developed, meaning that regardless who started it, the Nerazim were unquestionably responsible for what happened. For Valerie, Konrad, and Grigory, it was hard to imagine Protoss having serious internal issues, much less a civil war, while to Tekka this was very much familiar - though Konrad did find it funny that they were learning so much about each others' culture as an unintended side-effect of planning the deaths of hundreds of people.

Based on their scans of minds and the town itself, they could create a map of the fort that was the headquarters of the Scarlet Scourge on Delta-2. The place was in the middle of the small town, which itself was built upon a plain, far from any mountains - a practical location for a future metropolis. The fort itself was a snug fit; within the walled compound, there were the core buildings of any decent military outpost: a barracks, a factory, a starport, an engineering bay, and a command center in the middle of it. On each corner of the walls stood a missile tower, the single gate was guarded by a pair of bunkers, and there were 6 siege tanks parked next to the factory, with an estimated 200 people moving around in the compound. Needless to say, no civilian was allowed entry, which made the Explorers' job much easier.

Hecate's plan was straightforwad: kill everyone in the compound, thus denying leadership and coordination to the Scarlet Scourge as a whole, allowing the Explorers enough time to deal with the patrols in orbit as well as any pirate left on Delta-2, which in turn would allow them to eliminate any pirate presence on Beta-3 and Gamma-1, and hunt down any survivors. No arguments were raised against it, though the exact execution of the plan took quite a while to agree on. While certain items were made, Hecate made sure that each of them understood the principles of their role because, as the Archon said with a chuckle, 'No plan survives meeting with reality, and thus each of us must be ready to improvise based on their role. Predicting each other is unreliable at best, that is why we have the roles and why we must abide by them, so that the rest of the team can count on you fulfilling your role - somehow.'

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.19

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, Scarlet Scourge HQ  
 **Time:** Evening

Now that they were flying towards their target, the sheer reality of what they were about to do crashed on Valerie's mind. This was no grand battle, no tricky hit-and-run attack, not even some sneaky sabotage: it was a death sentence, planned with an cruel heart, and executed with unflinching proficiency. At least, that was the plan. Looking around at everyone else waiting in the cargo bay, she knew that only she and Konrad had any reservations about this. Tekka and Hecate were excited to 'stretch their legs', and although he was in the pilot's seat, she knew that Nabiros was like a plasma torch: burning with fierce hatred for the pirates but leashed to his own will and the agreed-upon plan.

The one who worried her the most was Grigory. While the Protoss seemed to simply ignore the fact that their victims were people (for understandable reasons, given their cultural background), the Zerg seemed to be enjoying the coming blood bath with the kind of emotional investment as if it were something personal. The ever-present Hydralisk grin on his face, and the intelligent cruelty glowing in his eyes conjured flashing images before her: burrowing beneath a human and pulling them into the loose soil and smearing their stomach with a kind of flesh-eating fungus, hiding above an entrance and biting peoples' heads clean off, throwing dead bodies at patrols that have broodling eggs about to hatch inside them, pulling the unwary into the darkness then throwing back the limbs at their packmates, and the screams, oh will they scream, they all scream, and those who don't are the real challenge...

Valerie felt a large, strong hand pulling her a few steps away. "You are standing too close to him." she realised it was Tekka. "He is... thinking too loud. Your own disarrayed thoughts were pushed aside by the tides of his bloodlust."

"Oh... uhm... thanks." Valerie was trying to shake the images out of her head. "He is... very specific."

"As he should be." Tekka nodded and looked at the crouching Grigory. "He is Zerg, after all. 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree', is the Terran phrase for this, I believe."

"Are all Zerg like this?" Valerie asked, turning to Tekka so she wouldn't have to look at... him.

Tekka looked back at her. "Not exactly. Most Zerg have just enough mental capacity to be efficient killers, so their bloodlust is utterly bestial. Going up the hierarchy, overlords are living satellites for the will of those in command. Queens are smarter but with only a handful of tasks in mind they are only marginally better company in combat. Broodmothers, on the other hand... If hunger were like a sun, its radiance spreading its warmth, then that is what they feel like in a fight. Imagine if each Zerg creature were both a receptacle and a transmitter for the sheer murderous rage erupting constantly from a Broodmother."

"It whips them into a frenzy, and then they echo it amongst themselves." Valerie nodded in understanding.

"Exactly." Tekka nodded. "But at a distance, a sun becomes a star, a bright spot of light on the black tapestry of the night sky. That is what Grigory is like: it is as if he were a sun, but whatever radiance he has is unintentional, a side-effect of what is going in within him."

"Are you saying that he is some next-generation Broodmother prototype?" Valerie asked quietly and in fearful disbelief. One of him was already more than enough.

"I doubt that." Tekka shook her head. "Broodmothers are made to control and to lead the Swarm, and thus their psionic powers revolve around a form of telepathic dominance at extreme range but only if the subject is Zerg. Our new friend here seems to be closer to an independent agent, which seems an odd concept for a Zerg strain."

"Could he be partially made of Broodmother genetic information?" Valerie asked, completely consumed by her need to understand what Grigory is and what that might mean for the future.

"The possibility is there." Tekka seemed intrigued by the idea, which Valerie wasn't sure how to interpret. "That would imply that the Zerg need a strain that can think for itself but not lead, and provides utility rather than raw combat prowess to the Swarm."

"What's next? Zerg covert ops agents that can shapeshift and infest people?" Valerie was growing more and more fearful of the future.

"The possibility is there." Tekka shrugged. "But I don't think that is the case. While the Zerg are great at ambushes, proper espionage and assassination does not fit their character."

"They do not." Grigory said suddenly behind Valerie, startling her. When she looked at him, he seemed amused. "We know that power is not enough to secure our future. We will find out what else is necessary." Valerie couldn't help but feel a chill settle in her stomach.

" **As interesting as this conversation has been, we are nearing the drop zone.** " Hecate said almost apologetically, then all three heads spoke.

 _ **"I descend into the valley of darkness  
**_

 _ **And emerge as a shadow,**_

 _ **To haunt the dreams of fools,**_

 _ **To end the dreams of tyrants.**_

 _ **May my mind be swift as the wind,**_

 _ **May my soul be patient as the earth,**_

 _ **So that I might be borne by the sea,**_

 _ **So that I might be warmed by the sun.**_

 _ **Onward, hungry shades!**_

 _ **The unjust will fear the shadows!"**_  
With that final cry, Hecate charged out the open cargo bay door, hammer in hand.

Precisely a second later, Grigory leapt out as well with a bestial roar.

Two seconds more, and Konrad jogged to the rim of the ramp and jumped.

Another second passed, and Tekka sprung forward and out, turning invisible halfway through.

Two seconds after, Valerie ran down the ramp and dropped down on top of the control tower connected to the starport. As she hit the neosteel roof, her hectic heartbeat settled, her turbulent thoughts coalesced into a single, overpowering will: none shall escape, and only the blood-splattered corridors and launch bays will hear their screams. She was a sniper now with a job to do. She could write about her misgivings and doubts later, when she could afford to be a journalist. But then and there, those who would exploit the weak would be punished. Severely.


	33. Chapter 31

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.19

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, Scarlet Scourge HQ  
 **Time:** Evening

Nabiros watched his crew dropping down and moving into position with much less concern than he thought he would. Being a Purifier, he was used to being at or near the thickest of the fight, not staying behind, though he could appriciate the tactical value of standing ready to provide support on demand. Especially with the newest changes to his ship.

During their downtime aboard the Spear of Adun, the repairs, abundant resources, and top-of-the-line facilities provided a rare opportunity for Nabiros to shape the Explorer to his needs. The original ship design was limited by the scope of its role and the absolute minimum resource investment necessary for it to be able to fulfill that role: long range stealth reconnaissance. He also managed to trade the computer logs of the stunt Hecate pulled with the shields for an increased budget for his upgrades: the other phase-smiths were all too happy to trade a few tonnes of trivial raw materials for unprecedented and potentially groundbreaking scientific data.

The Explorer received a more robust power core, almost tripling its power output. Its forge was replaced with an "field" variant that could be more easily removed from the ship and expanded to create increasingly large items, as long as its power and resource needs were met. But the most exciting part, for Nabiros, was the incendiary bombardment orb that replaced the ship's original photon blasters. The weapon was housed in the forward arms of the ship (Nabiros could never see the Explorer as a "flying croissant" that Konrad insisted it looked like), which generated a small orb or crackling energy that could be expelled in the shape of a beam or a bolt, depending on how you adjusted the containment field. The beam had cutting power, the bolt had range. Nabiros made a mental note to experiment with a base defense application of this adaptation of the Colossus' incendiary beam.

There were also 4 photon blaster turrets spread out on top and on the bottom of the hull (8 in total) to provide fire support for extractions and to discourage fighters from pursuit. Seeing how the bombardment orb was the dedicated precision weapon, Nabiros adjusted the photon blasters to provide suppressive fire but in the Purifier fashion: by indiscriminately spitting thousands of burning photon bullets of death per second over an increasingly large area, depending on the distance.

Nabiros suddenly wondered if he could somehow apply incendiary tech to them, so that the ship's entire arsenal could be used to set things on fire. He the briefly wondered if he is developing pyrophilia but then dismissed it as irrelevant. He had a mission to complete.

Dropping the ship's cloak, he opened fire on the first missile turret - according to Konrad, they were missing their advanced sensor suites specifically to allow infiltration by Ghost agents, as a back door in case the colony managed to rebel or be taken. The beam tore into one of the missile racks and while it did not cause a chain reaction, it did set it on fire, its metal frame melting where the beam passed. As he flew on close above the base, he sent the incendiary beam to rip into the other turrets, one by one. The automated systems were not letting him get away with it so easily, and flocks of anti-air missiles flew towards his ship; some were destroyed by the ship's photon blasters, some detonated prematurely, but more than half hit their target. While Nabiros knew that his shields would hold out for another volley, that was the extent of his window of opportunity if he wanted to deal with the anti-air defenses without the ship's hull suffering damage. A shame they would never get that far, Nabiros thought.

The Purifier spun up the photon blasters and opened fire on whoever was running around between the buildings. Although the ship had superior sensors compared to his own, their clarity lacked a certain connection to the surrounding events on a personal level. This isolation from the battle below drained all the joy of combat from the experience. It felt like supervised pest control instead. Nabiros made a mental note to revisit this issue at a later date. Currently, he was too busy getting over with the most unsatisfying battle in his life.

* * *

Grigory liked his assignment: kill everyone in and around the factory, and deny the prey their machines. He landed in the vehicle park, which he quickly infected with a host of microscopic, flesh-eating fungi, that immediately started eating a few mechanics alive, as well as any leather seat and belt they could find, growing and multiplying with unnatural speed. To make controlling them a little easier, he sent them on a patrol around the factory. That should keep reinforcements out and runners in, and notify him if an interesting morsel got past them.

His previous stunt was taxing for the little hive on his back, and he set out to find something to feed its hunger. He heard mechanics and pilots rushing to their many vehicles, some outside, some inside the factory. Grigory has no desire to chase Hellions or to wrestle with Hellbats, so he leapt up to the cranes lining the ceiling of the building, and quietly crawled towards the loudest shouting, and what sounded like engines revving up.

On his way, he remembered Konrad's "educated guess" about his capabilities, and while he was mostly correct, there was also more to his design than a mere "Defiler 2.0". He wished he could see him now, as he stalked a lone mechanic, shaking in a corner, vomiting. Grigory, while still crawling on the ceiling, opened his maw and relaxed his tongue, allowing it to drop out of his mouth like a rope. Then he reached out with it, stretching and stretching it, until he could coil it around the human's neck. He anchored himself and pulled with all his strength, breaking the mechanic's neck and swiftly reeling his tongue back. Guiding the body with his hands, he quickly pushed it down his maw, crushing it into a bleeding ball of ruptured flesh and broken bone, letting his cavernous stomach deal with it instead of his jaws. He could already feel his digestive fluids breaking the corpse down into refreshing nutrients and energy.

Revitalised, he crawled further into the factory. Although the lights were on - an odd circumstance compared to his usual methods -, the Terrans were too busy to look up beyond the lights. Grigory made good use of their failing, and nimbly jumped from crane to crane, the groaning of metal barely audible in the panicked noise below. He found a few Goliaths, of all things, being loaded with ammunition. From the looks of it, the Terrans didn't think they'd be needing them, significantly increasing the time it took to get them combat-ready. Immediately, Grigory began concocting a Great War favourite, enhanced by essence and evolutions picked up by the Swarm since then. Once he could contain no more of it, he vomited it out.

Known as "the plague" among the Terrans, this was the trademark ability of the Defilers. A rain of gooey red substance fell upon the Goliaths and the mechanics running around nearby. Whether it reached flesh or metal, it began eating away at it with endless hunger. The bay was soon filled with panicked screams as the victims tried to rub it off but the substance stuck to them like glue, its fangs running deep into them like roots. Even worse, the blobs that looked like half-congealed blood started to grow and spread, hungrily following whatever matter they could find. What was not apparent was that each of these also vomited millions upon millions of cancerous cells into the air, infecting skin, lungs, eyes, even hair, and upon the fertile ground of flesh it would grow, and eat away at its host. Whoever was in the loading bay, whether they ran or stayed, whether they were hit by the initial rain or not, they were all dead. They just did not know it yet.

Grigory laughed aloud, the menacing voice echoing in the ears of all who heard it. Amidst this pandemonium, he felt no victory, for what victory could be had over weaklings? This was a game, and playing games always made him hungry. It was time to feed, and for the toys, it was time to scream, time to run, time to die.

* * *

Konrad expected the landing to be rougher but it still made his bones feel unwelcome in his body. He thanked his foresight that made him put so much effort into making sure the legs of his new suit could handle situations like this one. He took a deep breath then bolted towards the barracks entrance.

Konrad was wearing a heavily customised version of the modern Firebat suit. Aside from the usual benefits of not having to accomodate the wearer's arms and legs (such as smoother movement control, sturdier and stronger internal structure and motors, and thicker armour plating), the suit's armaments were also modified: the left arm's lower portion was now entirely a heavy-duty flamethrower, with only the right arm retaining a heavily armored, if three-fingered, hand. The right arm's wrist was ringed with plasma torches normally seen on SCVs, which would allow the wearer to quickly cut through bulkheads and whoever came into melee range. It was great for fighting in a building, where the benefits of the normal Firebat gauntlets would have been limited.

The barracks doors were open, large enough that three Marauders could comfortably go through it side by side. Upon seeing the Firebat intruder, someone inside pressed the button to close said doors. Unfortunately, it slammed shut just after he got in. Not that it would have made much difference in the long run.

With complete mental control over the shape and length of the flames erupting from his weapon mounted on his left arm, Konrad quickly spun around and melted the door's frame, welding it shut. If anyone wanted to get out of the barracks they had to first clear the opening mechanism of the door, guarded by a single Firebat. Not bad odds - assuming a couple guys had their suits on. That was not yet the case, and Konrad intended to exploit that to the best of his abilities.

He opened fire.

Under normal circumstances, using a flamethrower in an enclosed space guaranteed that you were also set on fire - unless you wore the CMC-660 Firebat suit. Unless someone directed a Perdition flamethrower (the standard armament of Firebats) or worse right at you, you were fine. Potentially cooked alive in the long run but the suit itself would be okay.

The men and women in the barracks wore shirts, or leather vests at best.

They burned like candles. Screaming, running, melting candles.

The entrance hall turned into an oven, the buns were cookin', but the baker was not done. There were more ovens, and many more buns in the bakery, waiting to be cooked.

That's what Konrad imagined a normal CMC-660 wearer would be thinking in his place. Very few sane people were given these suits. Being a pyromaniac or pyrophiliac was the least of the mental problems they had. Konrad wasn't sure if they or the brainwashed Firebats were worse: one was genuinely insane but the other thought that being a Firebat was just another job that needed doing, that there was nothing wrong with it. He saw Firebats in action, mostly in the field, against the Zerg. On the rare occasion they fought indoors, the Firebat cleaned a room while everyone was behind him and checking his six. When they went in people were just on fire and dead, nothing they hadn't seen before. It was over. Watching it all unfold, by his own hands, was an altogether different experience, as Konrad discovered.

As he went through clearing the building, he saw normal rooms, corridors, halls, with relatively normal people in them, running from him for dear life; some even begged. He saw posters of bands and celebrities he recognised, he saw little memorials for lost comrades.

At a mental command to his flamethrower, it all turned into a brief hellscape. The walls wept metal tears that turned into vertical waves in a lake. Men and women flailed in panic and in vain, then they dropped, rolled around a bit, then stopped moving, turning crispy then into ashes. Forgotten. Irrelevant. There was always a next room, a next corridor, the sound of old CMC-300 suits being hastily put on that needed to be stopped. The ghosts of the previous room vanished as the next batch were created.

A part of Konrad mechanically went through the procedure of clearing the barracks. They agreed that this building was expendable, since it was the most easily replaced once the Dominion could roll in and take control of the place.

Another part of him sat like a viewer at a theater, watching it all unfold, like an amnesiac watching a recording of the things he did. Disbelief and denial between the actions performed, its meaning, and the person who performed them, grew and became a chasm, a safe, protective distance between the two. And yet, the two were one. There was no denying it. He could have stopped at any point. His movements are not those of a person who doesn't really want to go through with what he set out to do. No doubts, no hesitation, just action.

First came the rationalization: they were pirates, they needed to be removed. It is followed by the justification: they were murderers, slavers, rapists, thieves, sociopaths, psychopaths, they deserved to die.

For those who press on, there was one final step: admission. That they chose to do so. For whatever reason, they chose to do what they did. It is in the past, and nothing could be done about it anymore. Responding with guilt is hypocritical and useless. Responding with remorse is hypocritical and useless. Responding with regret could be useful if the action was wrong but it wasn't, it was the only option. Responding with joy would be sadistic in this context. Relief... that could work. A threat was removed, after all. Yes, relief. Konrad chose to feel relieved once this was over. He chose to see the benefit of this hellish intermission in his life, rather than dwell on what cannot be changed. He would remember it. He would remember it when the next time he would have to do it again. He would remember it the next time he would hear someone speak dismissively of the values and necessity of community and doing the best we can for one another. He would remember it the next time he would hear of someone who is divisive, who relishes in strife and turmoil. He would punch them in the face until they had no face anymore, and maybe, just maybe, all this would need not happen again.


	34. Chapter 32

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Date:** 2508.08.19

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, Scarlet Scourge HQ  
 **Time:** Evening

For Hecate, the attack on the Scarlet Scourge base was the very definition of one-sided. On one hand, that was as it should be when one plans an attack of any kind. On the other, it was... unsettling. Nothing of value was lost in the deaths of those who defended the gate the Archon attacked on its own, certainly, but it did occur to it as it spewed a cone of hellish void energy from its left cannon arm into a trench before the gates, turning its occupants into unidentifiable blotches of gooey matter, that maybe this was not the best use of its time. It wondered if, perhaps, there was something better it could do instead of following a band of curious oddities and lending a hand to their inspired but still random endeavours.

As Hecate broke the mind of the Firebat in the adjacent bunker and commanded it to open fire into the very bunker it occupied without ever letting go of the trigger, the Archon had to admit that the crew of the Explorer had a certain charm, and their adventures were so far exciting. They were the only ones who saw it as a person - well, twelve - instead of an abomination. Nabiros was on a mission of self-discovery and allowed himself to be carried in fate's hand, which lead him around the sector and put him in increasingly dangerous and sometimes awkward situations.

But that was his business and surely Hecate repaid all debts since Nabiros and Tekka helped it out? Certainly, it was hardly the kind of debt that can be repaid but then was it really a debt, and did it really needed to be repaid this way? With a thought, Hecate telekinetically picked up the other trench's occupants and forced them through the firing ports of the other bunker, shredding those inside with shrapnel of metal and bone and chunks of flesh. What did it want? Why is it still with them?

Not because of Nabiros' stunning charisma, no. The Purifier had the charm of an orbital bombardment cannon, which might be widely appriciated but only specific kinds of people want to deal with it on a daily basis. There was a certain sense of clarity in his stubbornness that birthed his consistent behaviour which in turn made him dependable, which is always appriciated, and while striving to always do "the right thing" is a worthy pursuit, it could become stifling if he kept it up for much longer.

Flying atop the walls, the Archon musingly shot nearby heavy weapon emplacements, sometimes flicking a wrist to send a lazy lightning bolt to vaporise the head of a runner. Maybe it stayed for so long because it too was on a mission of self-discovery. None of those inside knew what to do with their newfound power and abilities, let alone state of existence. They have become wholly immaterial entities bound to a single vessel, the closest thing to spiritual ascension any Protoss ever achieved. What is there to do? Do Archons really "die"? Do they, maybe, instead transcend to a higher plane of existence? Is there a place full of the many Archons of Protoss history?

The distraction of a cannon's fire mounted on the eastern wall was silenced by a localised gravity distortion warping the nearby meters of matter into a ball the size of a Dragoon that rolled off the chunk of wall beneath it and away into the night. Hecate wondered if it was just nitpicking or it actually had a problem, then decided that there must be a problem if it can't be amused by creative displays of power. Humour is only absent in truly serious circumstances.

As the Archon was chasing a squad of "Marines" as the others called them while waving around another one in its large black hand and occasionally hitting someone with it, it had to admit that staying with the Explorers so far had been the safe choice, and probably the wise one as well. Hecate admitted that it will leave eventually but the why and the where had yet to show their faces. Playing around with Nabiros and the others was like reading an entertaining novel, knowing that eventually one must stop and get on with their life. There was nothing personal in this emotion, only a need to find its own place in the world, and while the twelve within knew how to find places like that but they knew nothing about finding a place for twelve. That would require more than just thought: exposure to the world is necessary to be inspired and to be provided insight one would not obtain otherwise. The Explorers, Hecate admitted with three chuckles, were amazingly good at that.

* * *

Tekka's journey through the command center was peaceful for about 3 to 5 seconds, depending on whether hearing gunfire and panic from the outside or the inside counts. Fighting an opponent who can only be seen for less than a second, moves around like lightning, and slays your kin with a single blow is one of those situations where running for your life is not cowardice. You ought to at least make the attempt not to run screaming to protect whatever shred of dignity you have left but then again Protoss have never inflicted their high standards on lesser races - which is to say, any other race.

Arrogance is earned, as her father used to tell her, and the Protoss have thoroughly earned it. Arrogance feeds on power, it needs to make it a reality, each and every day. However, unchecked power also breeds a need for control, a need for security and order. That was the dividing line between the Tal'darim and the rest of the Protoss. They understood that power will always define the shape of the present and the future, however fine and regal a costume you put on it. The Tal'darim were at their core, a practical people; somewhat overly passionate but practical.

Take, for example, Tekka's armour. It covered her entire body, and offered her a wide range of benefits. Although it certainly had a conventional protective value, it paled in comparison with the relatively powerful shield it possessed - and that wasn't even the most useful about it. You see, when a Protoss warrior is shot at, their shield will deflect it within arm's reach, regardless of the angle. This design was intentional: in practice, it allowed warriors to cover their occasionally vulnerable brethren with their own shield, and then switch when the other's shields have recharged. From an ethical perspective, it reinforced the bond between all Protoss, that as they could rely on one another through the Khala, they could help each other with their shields.

This sickening approach was frowned upon among the Tal'darim: if you're worth anything, you will survive. The weak are not needed. They are expelled or used as slave labour, since after weakness, wastefulness was the second greatest sin among them - a mentality applied to their shields. The shield generator in Tekka's armour was linked to a sophisticated sensor suit that not only fed information to the wearer, but it also allowed the shield to deflect attacks that were likely to hit the wearer, thus saving precious power. This approach rewarded those who could dodge incoming blows and shots, and allowed them to use the shield's power supply as a resource to block attacks as part of a plan, which traditionally ended in the opponent's demise.

The aforementioned sensor suite's vast capabilities were also used to draw up fields of fire for Tekka, allowing her to spare her precious focus from such tedious mental bookkeeping, and spend it on plotting dodge-filled courses from target to target. The helmet's visual display fed right into Tekka's nervous system (as well as every subsystem in the armour), which was necessary to make full use of her mental training that allowed her to sense time at a much slower rate; therefore, the display was at all times in sync with her own perception of time.

The tedium of this slaughter was just as long in her subjective time, however, as for anyone else going through a trivial, boring process. Tekka wished something exciting happened, something unexpected, something that would throw a wrench in Hecate's fiendishly simple plan that would need some thought to deal with, an inspired response... ANYTHING but the emotionless administrative task of writing the Terrans' death sentences with their own blood.

Her grumbling was interrupted by a heavily reinforced door, which was protected by twelve marines - emphasis on the past tense. Tekka's brain scrambled to make sense of this potentially interesting anomaly. She already turned the central control chamber into a plasma-filled melting pot (Terrans had very primitive and hazardous mineral refining techniques), so it was odd to find a place more protected than the nerve center of the entire operation. Tekka reflexively reached out telepathically and found a single Terran inside radiating an odd mix of fear and rage. She wondered if she should dramatically cut through the door, exploit the design mistake of making the adjacent walls weaker than the door itself, or... well, it's been a while since she practiced that. She made a mental note to include it in her regular training routine.

To say that Tekka blinked to the other side of the door would be as pedestrian as calling the process of painting an application of pigment onto a surface, and like most shallow description, it would possess the core of the truth but the entirety of what happened was so much more than that. Normally when one uses their psionic abilities to teleport (commonly called blinking for multiple reasons), they can see their destination, "think" themselves there, and pull their bodies with them. However, those who mastered this ability don't need the crutch of visual feedback: they sense space like one would feel the breeze on their skin or hear the echo in an empty hall, and are capable of "thinking" themselves into any location they desire within a certain range.

"Showoff." she knew Valerie would say if she saw her right now. The thought was going to make her chuckle a bit but the scenery inside put a halt to that.

The room looked like one of those Terran hospital rooms: there was a bed and all sorts of primitive equipment around it, and within the bed was a shriveled man, connected to those machines with tubes transporting all sorts of fluids. The man looked at her with rising fear and impotent rage. He was thinking 'if I was not a cancer-ridden fuck I could show those morons how to fucking aim and I'd shoot this motherfucker into tiny little bits". He probably would have said that out loud if he did not have a tube down his throat.

Tekka thought to herself: the others can take care of themselves, she was free to do as she pleased. If this room was more important than the control center then this man was most likely their leader, and thus the one with the greatest understanding of everything the Scarlet Scourge was up to. She didn't think there was much value in whatever he knew but she was in a comfortable enough position to check. And besides, she never searched a Terran before. Not the Tal'darim way.

Tekka's silver hand took the man's head in a firm grip. The man struggled for a few moments, trying to shake her off. Then he began to shake in earnest, as his mind conveyed its surgical violation through whatever nerves it could find. Soon, blood started pouring out of his eyes, ears, and nose. The shaking intensified, prompting Tekka to spend a shred of her focus on telekinetically holding him still. After a few minutes the effort became increasingly unnecessary, as the man was bleeding through every available orifice. Another few minutes later the man died, after suffering through internal hemmorrhages in most of his internal organs.

Tekka straightened out, looking at the blood on her hand. She rolled her shoulders that got a little stiff in the procedure. She was wondering what the others' response will be.

"Nabiros." she said via a private comm channel. "We have a problem."

* * *

Some 20 minutes after Hecate jumped out of the ship to begin the massacre (because calling it an 'operation' would fail to express what happened), having cleared the entire base, the crew of the Explorer held an emergency meeting on the landing pad of the starport, next to the lowered ramp of their vessel.

"What's wrong, Nabiros?" Valerie asked when they have all gathered. The Purifier looked to Tekka.

"I found the Scarlet Scourge founder in a bed with medical equipment attached." the Tal'darim seemed a little nervous. "I took a look in his memories and found out that he was diagnosed with bowel cancer a few years ago. By the time the war against Amon ended, the symptoms were becoming severe. At some point in this period, he was offered a cure by an anonymous source. He was past the point of rational thought and decided to meet up with this person." Tekka paused for a few moments, as if wondering how to put the next part. "This person turned out to be an infested Terran but fully in control of his mind. The altercation was long and tense but eventually the infested, who did not name himself, offered him a choice: either die a slow, painful death by cancer, or perform a few tasks in exchange for infestation, which would not only cure him, but give him extraordinary abilities and prevent him from aging."

"That's a tough call." Konrad mused.

Valerie shook her head. "Not if you've been living with pain for years and the thought that you will experience your organs turn to shit one by one."

Tekka nodded. "Correct, he accepted the deal. Upon taking control of the Scarlet Dragon Cluster, he was first asked to send a dozen standard Confederate dropships, unmanned, to a set of coordinates that he found out was in a solar system with only a few gas giants and nothing of value. He guessed that the infested would pick up the ships there and move on. Upon receiving the ships, the infested told him to prepare for an attack on a Zerg Leviathan, and await further orders."

"So that's why they were building their fleet so fast." Konrad said. "And here we thought it was to defend against the Dominion."

"It made sense at the time." Valerie shrugged. "But how is it possible that an infested Terran could be independant and intelligent, and not a brainless zombie?"

"He looked nothing like the ones we've seen before." Tekka sounded concerned. "He was encased in carapace armour that resembled the ones Terrans had in ancient times. From what I could tell they were part of his body."

"That's weird." Konrad muttered.

"That is an understatement." Tekka paused for a moment. "Now that you know what I've seen, I believe we should decide what to do about it. After finishing our current task, of course."

"I don't think we should tell anyone else." Valerie said quickly. "We are under no obligation towards anyone, and what little we know is only enough to drive a wedge between the Swarm and the rest of the sector. No one will believe them when they will inevitably say they had nothing to do with it, even if there is no explicit proof."

"The Swarm made Kerrigan, remember?" Konrad waved dismissively with his three-fingered arm. "They could do it again. And I don't believe that part about the attack on a Leviathan, it was probably one of those 'if I prepare you for something worse then what I will make you do then you are much more likely to succeed' stunts. I say we give everyone a heads-up and leave it to them. We've meddled enough and we've earned some peace."

"It would make no sense for them to do that." Tekka looked to Grigory. "Right?"

"Zagara is Zerg from birth." Grigory said flatly. "Zerg are simple. Efficient. There is nothing to gain for us in killing all of you. It would be an inefficient use of our time."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Konrad asked, a little angry. "What guarantee do you have that Zagara didn't learn Kerrigan's tricks from her?"

" **We cannot be certain of that.** " Hecate raised its hand in a calming gesture. " **But what we can tell you for certain is that Grigory is not lying. We would know.** "

"But what if he was simply left out of the loop?" Konrad seemed more concerned than angry. "What he believes to be true does not necessarily mean that it is true."

Nabiros raised his hands to halt the argument. "That might be the case, Konrad, but throwing accusations around will get us nowhere. We will investigate this strange turn of events once we have made certain that the colonists are safe. Until then, I'm expecting all of you to have some ideas about the execution of said investigation. We only know that there is an odd infested out there somewhere. That's not much to work with."

" **Yes, that will work.** " Hecate pointed at the sky with a black finger. " **But we really should turn our attention to the incoming wraith wings now.** "

"Oh, right, I forgot." Nabiros muttered as he jogged up the ramp with the others. "This should be easy."

* * *

To be fair, the Explorer would have been blown to smithereens had the wraith pilots been well-trained Dominion pilots, not pirates whose only right to get into the cockpit was that they could fly one. A more sensible bunch would have harassed the Protoss vessel until the rest of the fighter wings arrived (a few minutes, really) and then moved in for the kill. Instead, the pirates came in wings of 3, which were gunned down one by one by the new armaments. Nabiros noted that manouverability had some room for improvement, as well as generator capacity: he had to slow the ship down by 12.1% when he was firing with all 8 turrets and the bombardment orb at once, while keeping the shields up. Everyone groaned at his complaints, except for Grigory, who appriciated the zeal with which Nabiros pursued improving himself and his ship.

The next ~14 hours were a blur. Since their first attack was already in the evening, the crew had only a few hours to sleep before having to wake up and clear out a well-armed but ultimately outclassed garrison that was unprepared to deal with the pain unleashed by a ridiculously powerful Dark Archon, a Tal'darim assassin, a Zerg bio-chem warfare beast, a sniper armed with a seemingly point-and-click murdergun, a surprisingly agile Marauder throwing grenades around at an alarming rate, who had heavy air support in the form of an almost croissant-shaped Protoss vessel that rained death from 4 turrets.

At the first stop the crew was happy to stick around a few minutes and reassure the colonists that they are here to sort this pirate business out so they could get back to their lives again. By the second, Valerie and Konrad were too grumpy to talk, and after the third was done Nabiros had to give a very brief explanation before having to jump back into his ship before his crew revolted.

The situation did not improve by the time they returned to the mostly intact Scarlet Scourge headquarters. Valerie and Konrad were still sleeping, Tekka felt too tired to be social, and Hecate wrote 'Do Not Disturb' on the doors of Secondary Storage with what looked like blood. Nabiros was concerned that bringing Grigory with him to the surface could prove counterproductive but he reasoned that if his crew were going to settle on the planet the locals might as well get used to the crew's Zerg member. He was convinced that the others would support this friendly and logical course of action, so he landed the ship on the starport and left to talk with the locals with Grigory stalking behind him.

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.08.20

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, Scarlet Scourge HQ  
 **Time:** Afternoon

"Remember, Grigory, Terrans can get scared easily." Nabiros instructed his newest crewmember as they walked down the Explorer's ramp. "Just stay next to me and observe." Grigory grunted in response which Nabiros interpreted as an agreement.

The starport had a few corpses lying around in its corridors, which quickly disappeared in Grigory's maw, much to Nabiros' shock but he chose not to comment on it. Aside from the blood and the occasional hole in the walls, the building was in good shape. He made a mental note to inspect the other buildings' interiors to see what damage his crew caused, so that he could fix them later on as a friendly gesture.

At the exit he was met with 14 Terrans in civilian attire, armed with pistols but fortunately they were holstered. An old man wearing a blue overall stepped forward, the various tools clinking on his belt. Nabiros couldn't tell his age but he knew that the man was above average with his 192.7cm height, and seemed to be in good health. His face was a mess of wrinkles and scars, his white hair was cut short. He didn't seem to mind the appearance or the nature of the two standing before him. "I suppose you're the ones who cleared out the pirates?" he asked plainly, his mouth revealing itself from under a thick mustache.

"Yes we are." Nabiros nodded. "I am Nabiros, phasesmith of the Purifiers, and this is Grigory, a member of my crew. The ship you see on the landing pad is mine. The rest of my crew is there."

"I am Edgar Holzel, and I represent the people of the Scarlet Dragon Cluster." he gestured first to himself then to the men and women behind him. "We received transmissions from the mining camps that they were also freed. I was also told that what's left of the pirate fleet is landed in neat rows on the plains outside the city. And I've heard that you have two Terrans working with you, another Protoss, and a red Archon. I even saw security camera recordings. I can tell you don't fuck around. So let me return the favour and be candid with you: what do you want?"

"We came by request of Emperor Valerian to eradicate the Scarlet Scourge." Nabiros replied. "In exchange we would receive the rights and land necessary for us to settle down in this cluster. We intend to build homes for ourselves, as well as a few support facilities, and make sure that the cluster is safe until the Dominion can afford to provide you with a proper garrison. We wish to cause you no trouble; in fact, we would rather provide what assisstance we can as contributing members of society."

"Hm, hm, hm." Edgar murmured. "That sounds very nice... if it is true. But if you could talk sense with your Zerg friend then either you can spin lies so clever and well put that I would believe them, or you actually mean what you say."

"I apologise for putting you in this situation." part of Nabiros sincerely meant that, the rest saw the colonists as minimally consequential at best. He wondered for a milisecond if he should be concerned by this coldness but then he concluded that truth is cold, not him. If he were truly cold he would not be wasting time on this conversation. "I will make every effort to provide you with the clarifications you seek."

"That's generous." the old man pondered for a few moments. "Let's assume that I believe what you're saying. How do you plan on pitching in?"

"I imagine an orbital station would be welcome, for trade and cargo fleet maintenance." Nabiros said casually. "And a satellite network for instant communications in the cluster and early warning would seem to have a good place in your lives. Would that be a good start?" Nabiros was glad he had no face, he was certain that his smugness would show.

"That's... ambitious." Edgar took a few moments to think. "It's worth a shot. Welcome to the Scarlet Dragon Cluster."


	35. Chapter 33

Masterminds & Comets

 _The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself_

 **Channel:** UNN  
 **Air Date:** 2508.09.03

"This is Kate Lockwell, live from the current UNN studio on Korhal ." the news anchor introduced herself with a wide smile. Although the special effects were the same as before, the UNN news anchor's studio was in what looked very much like a pre-fab housing that 77% of Korhal's population lived in. "Our main story tonight is the successful reclamation of the Scarlet Dragon Cluster by the Terran Dominion."

"As you may know, the end of the apocalyptic war against the Fallen Xel'naga, Amon, left the Korpulu Sector in shambles. Despite the Kel-Morian Combine and the Umojan Protectorate merging with the Terran Dominion, the military cleanup of remnant hybrid pockets kept Dominion fleets and armies occupied. Abusing the chaos and the vulnerability of unprotected civilians, pirate gangs have spread out in Dominion space. Fortunately, even though the Dominion military itself could not respond to the crisis, Admiral Matthew Horner struck a deal with the myriad mercenary groups that provided much needed assistance during the war. Making use of his reportedly strong ties with mercenary leader Mira Han, they were offered military supplies and amnesty, in return for combating the pirate threat."

"The organisation that has since become known as the Terran Mercenary League was successful in pushing out the pirates from most of Dominion space. Unfortunately, the remnants banded together into a fleet the League could not engage directly, resulting in an impasse. The pirate fleet then turned its attention to an outlying Dominion colony established after the end of the Brood War in the Scarlet Dragon Cluster. Details are scarce at this point but apparently, after a brief but brutal struggle, the local garrison was overwhelmed and the population was forced to toil under horrible conditions for their cruel conquerors, who named themselves the Scarlet Scourge."

"Two weeks ago, this blooming pirate empire came to an abrupt end. The famous Explorers, who have been key in solving a number of crises in the Dominion, were called upon by Emperor Valerian Mengsk to deal with the pirate threat. In a daring raid on the Scarlet Scourge stronghold in the cluster capitol of Beacon City, the Explorers decimated the base, then moved on to clear out the remaining outposts on the nearby mining colonies, where the colonists were forced to work for their captors. The Dominion military has yet to confirm the claim but according to the Explorers' report to Emperor Valerian Mengsk, there were no Scarlet Scourge survivors."

"In return for their heroic efforts, the members of the Explorers were granted Dominion citizenship and land in the Cluster they saved. The group did not sit on their laurels and proved that they can contribute to society even in times of rebuilding. Valerie Jacobson, a veteran combat reporter and a member of the Explorers, volunteered to report on the situation in the Cluster. Due to technical issues we cannot provide live footage but we will show you the recording nonetheless."

The screen fizzled for a moment, then switched to what looked like the landing bay of a starport, overlooking a military compound and the small city around it, shining in the warm light of the sun, with a clear blue sky above and a sea of pure green grass beyond the city. Facing the camera was a half-asian woman, wearing a dirty light blue overall and a big, happy grin. Her black hair rolled down just beyond her shoulders in a mess as she pulled off her yellow safety hat with a gloved left hand, oblivious to her attempt to tidy it up with a brush of her right, ungloved hand. She seemed a little tired but the enthusiasm that shone through her black eyes quickly made that irrelevant.

"This is Valerie Jacobson, reporting from the Scarlet Dragon Cluster, planet Delta-2, Beacon City, cluster capitol." she sounded half-casual, half-professional, as if the routine of old was already half gone under the candidness of communication under fire. "As you can see behind me, the colony is in good shape and we're working hard to make it even better. The Dominion military apparently decided to send us every injured soldier they couldn't fix in a week, saying that the fresh air and peaceful life here would not only provide us with a garrison, but them with an opportunity to heal. Fortunately, they came with medical personnel and supplies so we have more to offer them than a positive attitude. Oh and they brought a new barracks too, we kinda messed that one up." the woman chuckled apologetically.

"Looking forward, it is clear to everyone here that we're very far down on the Dominion's to-do list, so we will have to sort out our problems on our own, since that's the next best way we can help. After we showed footage of the kind of battles that took place and how planets looked like afterwards, no one here blames Korhal that they have better things to do. In fact, setting up the means of providing aid has been made a priority: we are currently in the process of building an orbital station that can handle the logistics of interstellar supply lines and trade, which will then be expanded with a small shipyard. Our plan is to provide the Dominion with cargo haulers and general purpose pre-fab factories that will make pre-fab housing and a variety of civilian equipment. The first shipment is scheduled to arrive above Valhalla in 6 months, 3 weeks and 5 days."

"In the meantime, I'll be bouncing between doing interviews and being elbow-deep in communications hardware. Make sure to send UNN any questions you might have for us and I'll do my best to find answers for them." the woman chuckled. "Well, the appropriate ones, I've done enough Q&As to know what they're like. See you next time and until then, stay safe."

* * *

 _Writer's Note: to make things interesting, YOU also get to ask questions from the Explorers and the mayor of Beacon City. Put yourself into the shoes of a UNN viewer (meaning any Terran, really), consider what they know* (not what you know, as IRL readers), and send me the questions those viewers would want to see answered. I can't guarantee that they'll all be answered but I will make an effort to wrap them into the next chapter._

* * *

 **Date:** 2508.09.03

 **Location:** Scarlet Dragon Cluster, Delta-2, Beacon City  
 **Time:** Noon

Grigory was not accustomed to boredom. He experienced it briefly back on Char but it didn't take long until something needed or warranted his attention. But here...

After the hunt was done and he made sure that he left nothing harmful in the factory he booby trapped with flesh-eating spores and similar surprises, he was given leave to roam the nearby forests and mountains.

He checked them for those funny Scarlet Scourge Terrans, found none.  
He checked them for wildlife with good essense, found none.  
He checked them for poisons and toxins, and what few good ones he found he added to his "cookbook", as Stukov liked to call his knowledge of such things.

That was the highlight of his first week. It made him feel a mix of anger, frustration, and shame. He was not born to watch grass grow, yet he had trouble finding anything worth doing.

He told Nabiros as much, who then told him to go through what he called a "desensitization training". It boiled down to him walking around the Terran hive, pretending to be on his way to do something actually useful, and trying very hard to ignore how the Terrans reacted to him. Nabiros also said that this was also a "desensitization training" for the Terrans, so in a sense Grigory was training them as well. For a while he enjoyed the waves of fear that greeted his passing but as the days went past even that turned into only a slight nervousness. The last piece of advice Nabiros gave him was to observe the Terrans, how they go about their daily lives, and to ask either Valerie or Konrad about the things he saw but could not make sense of.

In Grigory's mind, the local Terrans were all drones: they spent their days supporting and maintaining the hive. There were many queens who organised them, many of whom were male for some strange reason; in fact, the queen of the hive, whom the others called a "mayor" (whatever that meant), was also a male. It didn't help that Valerie and Konrad were rarely helpful, they didn't seem to understand what he didn't understand, and so after a few attempts he gave up on asking. Everyone was either helping the local Terrans or doing something on their own. He didn't see Hecate since the end of the hunt, and Tekka could only be found at night, in her room. Grigory tried stalking her out of a mix of boredom and curiosity but the Tal'darim quickly became undetectable for him and so he gave up on that too. After the straightforward organisation of the hive cluster back on Char and the readiness with which the Broodmothers or Stukov involved him in what they were doing or what they were thinking about, here Grigory felt left out and alone. These emotions were alien to him and he had no idea how to handle them.

He prowled the streets more out of habit than to observe. By now he knew the layout of the "town" (as Terrans called their smaller hives) well enough to navigate it with his eyes closed, so the only thing that was worth looking at were the Terrans. Grigory thought they would be frightened and threatened if they knew just how much he learned about them just by walking past them. He knew a little less than a third of the city by name, where they worked and for how long. By listening to their conversations and smelling the pheromones, he also knew how they felt, day after day. There were a lot of things he did not understand or was not able to put in context but it was still potentially valuable information. Grigory learned that Terran hives were not as orderly as Zerg hives, since some Terrans liked to prey on others, especially the drones. These were called "criminals" and if they had a space or seafaring ship they were called "pirates", like the ones they hunted down. When he asked her, Valerie said that anyone could become a criminal, it is only a matter of circumstance and character. To Grigory, this meant that everyone was potential prey, for however weak Terrans are as individuals, anything that disrupts the order of the hive must be dealt with swiftly and decisively. Not that he told that to Valerie. She was a capable soldier and she knew and saw much, things that Grigory himself did not and could not, but he sensed a frailty in her that made her incompatible with the simple truths of the Zerg mindset.

 _Remember, Grigory, never trust what you see._ Stukov's lesson rang in his mind like an alarm bell. _No single perspective can paint an accurate picture of the truth. When I walk, you can sense my footsteps: you know that I'm a Terran without a suit. Any Terran without a suit is easy to rip apart. Does that alone make me easy prey? Of course not. So whenever, wherever, Grigory, you feel certain about anything, you must always, always be ready to be wrong, ready to change your perspective. If a plan seems impossible to fail it means you either overlooked something or were mislead by your enemy._

But then how can you commit to anything?

Grigory remembered his confusion.

 _You do what Zerg do best: observe, prepare, commit, learn, and adapt, then repeat until you die or the problem stops being a problem._

Grigory really wished Stukov was here now, so that he could explain what part of his appraisal of Valerie was wrong. There was probably something he didn't know, or something he didn't recognise or interpret properly in what she said and how she said it, because with vocal communication there's no hive mind to help convey the meaning and depth of one's thoughts and...

"Grigory, you got a minute?"

He suddenly became aware that an old, female Terran was walking beside her. She was tall for a female, her hands in the pockets of a worn, old white coat, above a green shirt and blue jeans, wearing originally brown leather boots that had all sorts of colourful splotches on them, probably not intentionally. Her hair was long and straight, left to brush the upper half of her back. Her eyes were icy blue, at ease but confident and calculating. Yet for Grigory, the most noticable thing about her was her smell: to his nose, she reeked of a long list of chemicals, as well as blood and disinfectant. That meant "doctor", a kind of Terran who heals injuries and cures ailments, but there was something about those chemicals that made him doubt that assessment. Truly, the diversion of the day.

"Yes." he stopped and turned to the woman.

"I'm Nadya Kravetz, one of the medical personnel who came recently." she spoke casually but there was some urgency in her pace. "We brought a few patients with us who are suffering from a poison we have not yet identified. We don't have the equipment or the time to find out, so I'm here to ask you if you can help with that."

"How?" this was unexpected, to say the least, he thought.

"By helping to identify the poison and making an antidote." the sense of urgency emanating from Nadya was increasing. "I saw your work in the factory during the raid. I believe if I give you blood samples and potential antidotes, we can cure the patients before they die."

"There is only one way to find out." Grigory hoped he didn't sound too eager. "Lead on."

The hospital was nearby, which to Grigory meant that the woman probably knew his patrol route and intercepted him when he was nearest, which in turn spawned dozens of other questions - for later.

Grigory routinely ignored the stares he got as he entered the building but as they were about to enter the room that smelled like exotic deaths in progress, a man in a similar but whiter coat than Nadya stood between them.

"What are you doing!?" he asked, eyes darting between the Zerg and her. "I told you we're not..."

Nadya promptly punched him in the face with her gloved right fist then rammed up her left knee into his groin. The man crumbled to the ground, tears welling in his eyes, unable to do anything but quietly moan in pain. Nadya skipped over him and entered the room. Grigory spared a second to see if anyone else wanted to contest her will but the Terrans in various clothing and health did nothing of the sort, only screaming in surprise and other overt displays of submission.

Grigory had to crouch to enter the room but inside he immediately felt in his element: test subjects were lined up on either side of the long room, ten by ten, though at second glance three of the beds were empty but the seven left were steaming with the sweat of a terribly overwhelmed immune system and various organs nearing shutdown. They were unconscious, which robbed him of the ambience that normally came in such situations, but he had to admit it did make working with them much easier. Though all those whirring and beeping and wheezing and slurping machines would take some getting used to.

To anyone looking into the room, the scene unfolding inside must have been incredibly bizarre. An exceptionally monstrous Zerg followed around an old woman, who took blood from the patients then sprayed it into his mouth, followed by a quick discussion brimming with medical jargon one would not expect a Zerg to be aware of. Then, the duo moved to a sizable machine at the far end of the room, which was an automated antidote synthesizer. There, the woman would be offering vial after vial to the Zerg, who, like a wine connoisseur, kept shaking his head and criticising the contents, until she could produce a vial he was satisfied with, which was then injected into the patient in question.

It was near midnight by the time the last patient was given their antidote, yet to Grigory's surprise Nadya did not seem tired or even winded. She sat down on a chair at the end of the room, watching her patients and their lifesigns like a hawk. Grigory knew better than to block her view, so he sat down next to her on the floor.

"I'd offer you a chair but I don't think it'd work out." Nadya's voice betrayed only a wisp of an apology as her eyes patrolled the room. "But then how do you..." she turned to see how does he sit. "So you curled up your tail and you half sit on it, half crouch, because of that toxic beehive on your back. Huh. Is it waterproof?"

Grigory was not used to this line of questioning. It took him a second to catch up with her meaning. "It takes some effort to make it so but it can be done."

"I imagine you found that out after you turned a lake into a putrid fish soup." she chuckled. Grigory tilted his head slightly, thought for a moment, turned his face to Nadya, and nodded. "Thought as much. Good work here, by the way." she patted him on the shoulder. "I don't suppose you're used to this kind of work."

"Curing a poison is new, yes." Grigory looked around in the room. He had to admit, after all the animals and people he watched die in hundreds of horrible ways, there was something uplifting about curing these Terrans. There was a great deal of professional pride in that emotion but there was also joy over the realisation that he can not only destroy but also fix things.

"Where did you pick up the medical language?" Nadya asked, her eyes' patrol route now including Grigory.

"From Abathur." Grigory reminded himself that no one outside the Swarm even knows Abathur exists, let alone who he is. "He is what you would call our 'science expert'. The latest adaptations in the Swarm are his work."

"And where did he learn it?" Grigory could hear in her voice that she was genuinely curious. "I've never heard of Zerg universities or laboratories."

Grigory took a moment to reminisce on his lessons with Abathur. "He learned it from the many civilisations the Swarm came across on the way here. He learned that knowledge can not only be remembered but recorded, so he learned their languages and absorbed their knowledge. In the process, he found that much can be learned about a given topic from perfecting how you convey your knowledge, your thoughts, your ideas."

"I like how casually you used genocides as a learning experience." she smiled cheekily.

Grigory shrugged. "That is what happened."

Nadya laughed. "This is what I love about you Zerg: no bullshit, no moralising, straight to the point to get the job done."

"Like how you punched the one who wanted to stop us?" Grigory asked.

"Guilty as charged." Nadya looked at Grigory. "What's my sentence?"

Grigory had to think for a moment to make sense of what she said. "Your pack will live at the cost of a broken nose. If the other one were in charge they would be dead before he could cure a single one of them. I don't see a problem here."

"He _is_ my boss." she made a show of whispering. "I'm just a mean old hag who knows medicine."

"The one making the decisions is the one in charge." Grigory quoted Stukov. "The one decision he made would have damaged the pack. You made a better decision and you took control. He is not your... 'boss'."

"That's not what the others are thinking." by now Grigory believed that Nadya only sated her curiosity with this chain of thought, not discussing a problem.

"They would have lived as drones of pirates rather than dying with those who died defending them." Grigory's disgust was palpable. "Those who know only submission are in no position to decide who leads them."

"I can see why a Zerg would have a strong opinion on loyalty." Nadya nodded. "Anyhow, thanks for the help. I'll keep watch, you can go home."

Grigory snorted. "I will see this through to the end."

"Don't be so dramatic." Nadya rolled her eyes, then she saw that Grigory was not budging an inch. She sighed, then patted him on his carapaced head and softly spoke. "That's very nice of you, dear."

* * *

Hiding invisibly beneath one of the empty beds just a couple meters away from the above conversation, Tekka had to admit that their Zerg crewmember was full of surprises. When word came that Grigory and a Terran doctor were treating poisoned soldiers, Nabiros told her to immediately get to the hospital keep an eye on him. Tekka was expecting everything to go wrong in seconds but to her increasing surprise, it didn't. But who is this Terran woman, getting so friendly and even physical with a uniquely grotesque Zerg like Grigory? Valerie probably knew, she was quite the social character, she was her best bet. But that could not happen until Grigory was out of the hospital, and from the looks of it, he was sitting there like a guardian statue. Tekka settled in for a long watch and pondering just what she would ask of Nabiros in return for all this inconvenience.


	36. Announcement

I decided to move this story and my ass in general over to deviantart. I'm done with this place. The posting and editing of stories is about as flexible as as a brick wall, which I put up with, but just now I was trying to save my progress on the latest chapter and there was probably a hiccup on the server's end and it sent me back to the login screen, resulting in roughly 400 words' worth of work going down the drain. I'll leave here everything as it is but future chapters (which will take a while since I'll have to haul all this over there and polish the chapters while at it) will be uploaded to the dA account by the same name (MeridusLanvellar), I put the link into my profile 'cause FF get's upset if you put a link here.

I'm sorry if this upsets or inconveniences anyone but I reached the end of my acceptance of this site's bullshit.


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